


Sun Over The Sea (Honey and Rum)

by SnorkleShit



Series: Cosmos [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, College Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Gen, Immortal Castiel, Immortality, Immortals, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Paradox, Parallel Universes, Pirates, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Slavery, TW:Suicide (attempted), Whump, attempted!suicide, don't worry dean's a good pirate its complicated just read, minus the cannabalism, noncon oral (mentioned), pirate!dean, restart so to speak, slave!castiel(escapes), think of the movie "The Time Machine", treasure hunters, way in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 40,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Dean and Sam were never born in Lawrence, Kansas in the 21st century. The angels and demons started the apocalypse and ripped apart the world. God returned, and outraged with what he found, he emptied Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory, and set the world on fire. Demons, Angels, Humans, Monsters- they all burned together. Till there was nothing left. Flash forward thousands of years. Life begins to return to the planet. And somehow, out of gene pool, the germ of humanity crawls out and restarts its evolution. This time, it's not alone. Flash forward. We find humans living in a medieval industrial age. There's a little boy, with blue eyes, being sold into slavery by his siblings. Flash forward 10 years of torture and slavery, and he's faced with risking his life to save some newly caught slaves. Among them, no other then the vigilante pirate captain, Dean Winchester. Flash forward a sea voyage, an escape and a balcony scene, and Castiel is free. Dean Winchester and his crew are more complicated then they seem, and suddenly the former slave is caught up in a maze of slaves and pirates, kings, criminals, and family. Can two souls fall in love despite it all, or does fate have other plans?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fading Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a few different things: Robin Hood, the novel "Fish", a dream I once had, and the bible story of Jospeh and the dream coat. I will try and update as regularly as I can.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignorance is bliss.

                                                 

Castiel Novak was born in a small farming village on the prairie. He was the youngest of nine other siblings, Michael, Lucifer (although he preferred Luke), Uriel, Naomi, Metatron, Gabriel, Anna, and Balthazar.

At the age of four four, his mother grew sick. It seemed that almost as long as he could remember, she had been sick.

What he could remember before the sickness was a smiling bright woman with bright eyes and raven black hair, spinning, singing, cooking, and riding her horse with her hair flying behind her like shadows in the wind, laughing back at them as they cheered her on.

When he was eight, she was carted off in a special carriage to a hospital in the city.

They went to visit her a lot, Castiel mostly remembered her room smelled of incense and decay.

His siblings did their best to carry on. They would go out to the lake and wade up to their knees to cool off, but never further. He had noticed from a young age, that everyone was so wary of certain things. He understood being cautious, but there was a line, in his opinion. His father almost dropped the matches shaking in fear every time he had to light the fire. When they started taking Castiel, he would always look at the deeper, clearer water and wonder why no one ever went out there instead of the warmish muddy water of the shallows. They told him it was too dangerous, that only fish went into deep water. One time, while all the older ones were talking and laughing, Castiel wandered out a little farther to where it came up to his chest. It felt much nicer. He was very much enjoying himself until he heard a scream and one of his siblings yanked him back.

Anna crouched in front of him.

"Castiel! Never go out there, you could drown!" She chastised him. Gabriel had laughed and waded to where they stood.

"If the little fish wants to swim, then let’s let him!" he had said, and with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. he scooped up Castiel and rocked him back and forth, pretending as if he was going to throw him mockingly. Castiel giggled and laughed, but what his older brother hadn't accounted for was that Castiel was rather wet from wading out so far. Suddenly he was slipping, and there were shouts, and Gabriel was screaming and trying to grab him back, but he was already flying through the air, and it was marvelous. The wind whistled in his ears and he was soaring. Then, he plunked right into the middle of the lake. He writhed as he sank into the cold darkness, alarmed. A calm came over him. It was silky and cool and clear. He opened his eyes, moving his hands and feet to keep him from sinking any further. He looked around in wonder.

The sunlight lit up the water in ribbons, but the deeper it got, the less light he saw. Small green and yellow fish darted around him, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Lake weed sprouted up from the bottom, waving in the fluid rocking motion of the water. In that moment, he felt completely at peace. Soon, though, his lungs began to burn. Castiel experimentally kicked his legs and pushed down on the water with his hands, and he was shooting towards the surface. His head broke the surface and he took a deep breath, treading water smoothly to keep himself up. His siblings were in up to their chests, as if debating whether to risk coming for him and splashing about in panic. They froze at the sight of his head. He let out a joyous whoop and waved his arms, grinning.

"This is amazing! Come on! It’s not hard!" He called, then took a deep breath and dived under, slicing through the water in a slow arc and breaking the surface again. They stared at him like he had gone insane.

"Look at that! Little Cassy Poo really is a fish!" Balthzar called. He swam towards them with his head above them, and grabbed at Gabriel's hand, tugging him.

"Come on! It’s easy!" But Gabriel shook his head. They apprehensively watched him swim about until it was time to go home.

When they told their father, he just smiled.

"It doesn't surprise me. You've always been different. You’re special, my son," he had said, smiling more warmly than he had in a long time and pulling him into an embrace. He could feel Raphael and Naomi glaring at him but he couldn't understand why. He swam out deeper and deeper every time, but no-one ever wanted to come out with him.

Soon, their mother's absence grated against something in their family. Luke and Michael were always fighting, and their father had to mediate often. Metatron locked himself in the attic with his books. They still went out to the lake together.

One day, when he was ten, Gabriel, Anna, Naomi, Uriel, and Balthazar and him climbed up the bluffs to the rocky outcrops to see the sunrise. They told him not to wander too close to the edge of the ravine, but of course he didn't listen. On the other side, there was a tree that looked like it had the ripest, plumpest apples he had ever seen. And at the very top, the most delicious apple he had ever seen glistened in the breaking sunlight. His siblings picked the apples from the ground or what they could reach from the low branches, sometimes shaking the tree to get more, but he had to have that apple. He studied the gap between the edges of the ravine. They were a little wider than he was tall. He knew none of his siblings could do it, but something in him knew he could. His legs were strong from all the swimming he did. He looked behind him to see if his siblings were looking.

Luckily, they weren't.

He stepped back a few paces and took a deep breath. The warmth of the rising sun on his back, the wind teasing at his hair, he crouched down and set off at a run, and kicked off just before he reached the edge...  
And then, he was flying, spreading his legs and arms to move his momentum forward, reaching for the rapidly approaching other edge. He heard a shout behind him, and then his feet smacked against the ground, and he was there. He wobbled a bit, disoriented, then stood straight and whooped for joy, jogging up to the tree. He ignored the shouts and yells from the other side to come back and stop trying to get himself killed, and Gabriel yelling something about birds. He came to a stop before the thick, strong, tall tree. He could easily climb up one of the low hanging branches and get a good apple, but that wasn't what he had just risked his life for. The apple of his obsession was at the very top, the tree taller than some of the neighboring sycamores. Taller than his two story house, even. Strong, twisted fruit ridden branches spiraled upward. He cracked his knuckles and set his jaw, reaching up and hoisting himself up. He reached up and swung himself from branch to branch, jumping from foothold to foothold and hoisting himself onto branch after branch. He'd never seen anyone go this high before, and he knew when he got down (if he got down without falling), he would hear about it. But that didn't matter. The wind was more intense up here, whistling through the branches and brushing against him like a cat rubbing against your leg, egging him on,

Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

Soon the branches began to grow thinner, more fragile, and the tree seemed to sway ever so slightly. That was what trees did in the wind, he supposed. He paused to catch his breath, and looked down apprehensively. The ground seemed ages away, but his breath caught in his throat when he looked out over the bluffs they had climbed up and down into the valley and the fields. He could see their modest home and the fence keeping the sheep in, and the stable hand, the corn stretching out to the east. He could even see the tiny figure of his father, crouched down behind the house tending the herb garden. He could see his siblings staring up at his on the other side of the ravine. He risked taking a hand away and waving.

Climbing the last few branches, Castiel plucked his prize. He grabbed a few more sun kissed ripe apples and tied them up in this tunic, before slowly making his descent. It seemed like forever before he plopped down on the ground again. He skipped to the edge of the ravine. His siblings were staring at him, mouths agape. He took off his tunic and tied it around the apples like a pouch, then threw it across the gap to land at Gabriel's feet. Then, he took a deep breath and ran, and then he was soaring again.  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
He heard more groaning then he had in a long time on the hike back down, but also very satisfied sounds as they munched into the apples. Castiel ate his slowly and savored it. It was worth it. There were still a few to spare, so Cas presented them to their father, who chastised him stormily for being so reckless but congratulated him for his success, and praised him for beginning home such quality fruit. That night, they had great fun in the kitchen making one of the best pie's Cas had ever had. They even saved a slice for their mother the next time they visited her, who cooed and hugged Castiel tightly, which earned a huff from Metatron.

When he was 13, his mother died. And that was the breaking point. HIs father just stared at the wall, Michael and Lucifer screamed at each other. Uriel tried to crack a few jokes to get his father to cheer up. Metatron was nowhere to be seen. Naomi smashed dishes and smacked Anna across the face when she tried to get her to stop. Balthazar calmly poured himself a drink, but his hands were shaking. Anna stormed out, tears rolling down her face and cheek growing red. Gabriel sat next to them on the bench, and watched. After Anna stormed out, Balthazar took a long swig of his whiskey and looked at Gabriel, who stood up and offered Castiel a hand.

"Come on Cassy, we’re gonna go somewhere that isn't so awful, okay?" He said quietly. Castiel stared at the hand and at everything going on around him, and shook his head and fled up the stairs. He crouched to the ground and peeked back down around the corner. Amidst the chaos and flying dishes and screams, he watched Gabriel's back exit the door, silhouetted gold in the setting sun before the door closed.

That was the last time any of them saw Anna, Balthazar or Gabriel.

Their father looked, sent word to all the surrounding villages, but no one could find them.

His father spent a lot of time in his room going through her old belongings, and had a lot of visitors. Men in black who came to talk to him behind locked doors. His siblings also locked themselves in their rooms.

Castiel wondered downstairs when everything was quiet, a week or so later.

There were still bits of shattered porcelain on the ground. He cut his feet on them, but he didn't care. It was like he was in a haze. There was a sudden slamming upstairs, and the men in black quickly left, bidding their goodbyes. His father sank to the ground, head in his hands. Michael stood above him, rigid as he stared down at the defeated man. The rest of them stood around, and Castiel could almost hear the gears turning in Michael's head, and his eyes snapped up to stare at Castiel, with something akin to pity in his eyes. Then they hardened, and Michael led father upstairs and put him to bed. Castiel stayed in the kitchen, just staring up the stairs. He heard hushed voices, and soon his siblings were hurrying him out into the road.

"We’re not supposed to be out at night!" Castiel exclaimed, looking back at the house in panic as Michael practically dragged him.

His older brother smiled down at him, a tight smile that made something in the younger boy grow cold. "It’s alright Cassie, we’re just going to get something from town so father will feel better. You do want father to be happy, don't you?" He said. Castiel nodded reverently. Michael loaded him up behind Luke on Jhackl, there blackest stallion. The others mounted up, and they were off into the night. An unknown dread filled the young blue eyed boy as he stared at their house, fading in to the distance quickly.

Later, he would wonder if something in him had known it would be that last time he'd see his home


	2. Sold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The caged bird sings  
> with fearful trill  
> of the things unknown  
> but longed for still  
> and his tune is heard  
> on the distant hill  
> for the caged bird  
> sings of freedom."  
> \- Maya Angeluo

                                                   

 

 

 

The city was dark and empty at this time of night, shops closed up and everyone asleep, save for a few bums in the dirty streets, huddled like masses of shadows.

Castiel hugged close to Luke, heart pounding, he didn't like this at all. They rode through the sleeping town down to the mucky canal, trash and nasty things littered everywhere and weeds breaking the stone. By the bridge, a stout menacing looking building stood. Just the sight of it made Castiel's stomach turn. All the windows had bars on them. A group of scary men sat around a fire next to the building, and stood when they approached. Michael held up a fist for them to come to a stop, and swung down. As he approached the men, his walk was strong and steady, with an air of power and seriousness.

He hated when Michael got like that.

One man stepped in front of the others. He sported greasy hair, a plump belly, beady eyes, crooked teeth, and spindly little legs and arms, but something about him told you he was anything but weak. His rotten grin made Castiel feel cold.

"Pretty boy showed up after all? Have what we discussed?" He said simply, tongue swiping out to lick his lips convulsively. Michael nodded somberly, his figure outlined in the moonlight like a shadow against ice. He turned and nodded to Luke, who hopped down and lifted Castiel off the horse. Placing an iron grip on his arm, Luke dragged him forward. Castiel looked around with wide confused, terrified eyes. The rat like man studied him, tongue flicking out this way and that, like he was meat on a platter. It made his skin crawl. He tried to hide behind Luke, but he just shoved him forward more. Michael didn't move at all.

"Oh, he's a pretty one. Look at those eyes!" The man sneered back to his sleazy friends. They laughed and mumbled lowly, like they knew something he didn't. The man stepped closer, reached out a finger and sticking it in Castiel's mouth, running it along his teeth. The young boy yelped and jerked back, spitting out onto the ground in disgust. The man's fingers tasted like dirt, blood, and smoke. His eyes darkened. "Nice teeth, and such pretty lips! Looks like a strong young wiry lad, ripe for labor! You were right, Pretty Boy." The man turned back to Michael, pulling a large burlap sack from his robes. "What we agreed upon." He said politely, tossing it to Michael. His oldest brother glared, opening it and quickly inspecting its contents. Castiel's heart felt like it was about to fly out of his ribcage, he was starting to understand that something was horribly wrong here. Michael jerked his head at Luke, who grinned and shoved Cas viciously forward, to were he stumbled and fell at the rat-man's feet. He gasped, and before he knew what was happening ropes were being cinched around his wrists and he was being tugged roughly to his feet. His brothers turned away and began to walk back to the horses and their other siblings. The man began to drag Castiel towards the eerie building. He tried to pull back, turning as much as he could back.

"Michael! NO! I- Brother, please! Don't leave me here! Please!" He called. Michael did not turn back. His breath grew quicker, and his struggling more frantic. The realization was settling in. "Naomi! Met! Rapheal! Please!" he screamed. Rat man was getting angry, jerking him harder and cursing, trying to reach forward to slap him, but his movement were to erratic. Castiel began to sob, voice breaking. "P-please! Ill be better! I'm sorry! I'll work harder! Please, don't! Please!" He screamed. A dazing backhand from the beady eyed man stunned him into silence, and when he could think straight again he was being dragged through the dark doorway and his siblings were fast retreating. The last thing he saw before the door slammed was Naomi looking back with sad eyes, before turning away. One last image of there retreating backs and there was a slam, and he was plunged in darkness.  
\--------  
Castiel was dragged through dark hallways and down stairs a few times until he was sure they must be underground, and thrown into a small damp stone room. The only light allowed was through the bars of the small window in the door. The flickering long rays of the torch down the hall cast a few lines of light into his prison. He just knelt there, wrists still tied, in shock. His mind knew what had happened, but his pounding heart was struggling to believe it.

But as time passed on, it set in.

They'd sold him.

Sold him.

Like he was nothing. Why? What had he done wrong?

Many tears later, he curled up in the corner and wrapped his arms around himself to enjoy as much heat as possible.

Which still wasn't much.

He came to the numb realization that Father was probably in a lot of money trouble with those men from the hospital. It had never occurred to him before that they were charging for Mother's treatment, but it made sense. Had Father told them to sell him? No, father would never do that. He'd never imagined Michael doing anything like that before, but now that he thought of it, his oldest brothers main drive in life was to please there Father and provide for the family. Big Responsible Michael.

He'd never imagined providing for the family included selling the youngest member. What would his siblings tell their father? Maybe he'd hear about it and come for him, buy Castiel back and yell at Michael. Or maybe they would lie to him. But tell him what? That he was dead? Had ran away? Castiel curled into himself, the idea his father would think he had just run away twisting knots in his gut.

Eventually, despite his roiling emotions, he managed to fall asleep. He dreamt of flying through the air and diving into clear blue water. He dreamt of lake weed reaching up and dragging him to the bottom. He dreamt the lake weed changed to the grips of his siblings, pulling him to his watery grave. He was woken by a rough shove, and gasped, scrambling back wildly.

A large bald muscular man stood in front of him. He said nothing, just grabbed the rope around his wrists and dragged him down the hall and up the stairs, to a lavish room adorned with red velvet and hand carved wood. The beady eyed man was smoking a pipe in a fluffy looking chair. He smiled wickedly at Castiel.

"Hello, my little angel. Oh, you're going to fetch me a pretty penny, yes you are. My girls and Crowley here are gonna get you all prettied up for the auction. Do whatever they say or you'll regret it." He instructed, edge to his sickly sweet voice.

Off to the side, a brunnete with a heart shaped face and a narrow jawed blonde stood side to side with a proud lofty looking man, well manicured and immaculate, in dark trousers and crimson tunic. The brute shoved him towards them, and the one he assumed was called Crowley caught him and brushed him.

"Hello, Sweet. Were going to make a show stopper out of you. Come along," he said in a strangely accented voice. He gently had Castiel follow him down a hall to a small room, with mirrors and a basin and a lot of strange tools.

"Strip." The blonde one deadpanned. Castiel's eyes widened, and he shook his head. The brunette smacked her on the arm.

"Its just a kid, Ruby, jeez. Be a little more flexible or this will take forever." She huffed turning to Castiel with a obviously fake smile plastered on. "Sweetie, you're just covered in dirt! Don't you want a nice warm bath? I promise we won't look or touch, just get yourself as clean as you can so we can get to work making you as presentable as possible, alright?" She cooed. Castiel hesitated, glancing around. He suspected that if he didn't cooperate, the blonde on was likely to just rip off his clothes and shove him into the water by force. He slowly nodded. She smiled and stood straight, gesturing to a little screen in the corner. He heard the door close, and he assumed the blonde one had left. he hoped he wouldn't return. Castiel scurried behind it and quickly pull doff his soaked dirty cloths, and slipped into the basin that was just beside it. On the table to the side, there was smelly soap and a strange pad that he assumed he was supposed to scrub with. He cleaned as fast as he could, hands shaking. When he was done, the brunette tiptoed over and handed him a drying cloth with clenched eyes, He thanked her quietly, stepping out and wrapping it around himself. She opened her eyes and smiled.

"There we go. Here, sit down." She gestured to a wooden chair set up in between the alternating mirrors. Castiel obeyed, and Crowley clapped his hands. He whirled around, taking a comb to his hair and some sort of pickers to his eyebrows, jerking out a few hairs painfully. He pinched Castiel's cheeks to 'liven them up'.

After the primping, Ruby came back with a set of folded black trousers, shoving them into his hands. He changed into them as quickly as possible, blushing. when he was done he stood up straight, and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked simple and exposed, everything a slave should be, he thought numbly. Crowley was smiling like he'd just solved all the worlds problems. "Perfect, and just in time! Meg, take him out to the auction waiting room and get him a number. Good luck, little duck!" Crowley called gleefully as he was led away.

The brunnete lead him to a dark room full of other people dressed like him. Men in just trousers, females with a short set of cloth to cover there breasts, and nether regions, and little else. The were all either silent or whispering fearfully. They ranged from as old as old man Gerald from town who had the best toys, to infants crying. The same brutish silent man who had dragged him from his cell shoved a rope attached to a piece of wood around his neck. He stumbled, startled, looking down at it. It read "7089RE". He swallowed past a lump in his throat. Was that all he was now, a number? The room was hot and humid, smelling of blood and tears.  
A door on the opposite wall opened up, and a bunch of men with weapons on there belts began pulling people through the door. Then it shut again. Muffled noise he couldn't decipher from the other side of the wall. And then the process repeated. Sometimes it included people begin ripped away, sisters from brothers, children from there mother, lovers from each other's arms. Sobs echoed out, cutting into Castiel's nerves like knifes.

Soon, he was dragged out too. Fear trembled in his bones and he blinked against the light as he was shoved into a line across a raised platform. Below them, a crowd of people stood, dressed in bright cloth and a lot with smiles Castiel knew weren't good natured. His breath caught in his throat. The rat man was calling something out, gesturing too each one of them in turn and saying something, but Castiel was too terrified to listen. Then, the bidding began. One by one, the line grew shorter, until he was pulled forward, trembling. A murmur of appreciation rose form the crowd, and it made him sick. Rat was saying something, but all he heard was a low buzzing. He couldn't feel his legs or fingers. People began calling out numbers from various places int he crowd. The prices rose higher, until a low clear voice called out a number that silenced them all. Rat seemed stunned, then flustering with happiness. Castiel was pulled to the other side of the platform, his wood plate removed and a man was standing there, handing something to the brutish man. Behind him, Rat's voice cut through his haze.

Sold! Sold!

He was shaking like a leaf by the time he was shoved into the arms of a gangly man with scraggly ginger hair and a dark glint in his eyes. He leaned down, breath like mold and the metallic ting of blood.

"Hello. Im Alistair, but you're never to call me anything but Master. Understood?" he said. Castiel gulped.

"Y-yes. Master." He replied shakily, the word bitter on his tongue. Alistiar grinned wolfishly.

"We're going to have a lot of fun, you and I."

A sinking dread in the pit of his stomach told Castiel they did not had the same definition of fun.

As he was lead away, Rat's voice still rang out, with words that would haunt his dream's for years to come.

Sold!

Sold!

Sold!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All work and no comments makes Kira a dull girl.


	3. Rising Tides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yeah two chapters in a day

 

                                                       

The first thing Castiel learned with Alistair was that Master was always right, and to always say thank you. Even if he was tying Castiel down and pulling out his fingernails because he had broke a dish. Always. The second thing was that Castiel was always wrong, always bad, and always deserved it.

 

"Why do you think they sold you, Castiel? Because we both know the truth." He hissed in his ear, as he ran the knife over his shoulders slowly and lightly, barely breaking the skin, but just enough to hit the nerves and bring tears to his blue eyes. "We both know that your worthless. The only thing you were worth was some quick coins. And a nice toy for me, of course. They never loved you. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will." His voice wasn't vicious. It was just plain and honest, like he was stating a brutally obvious fact.

 

And it didn't take long for Castiel to start to believe him. It didn't take long for him to stop staring out his tiny widow in the little closet Alistair had him sleep in, stop watching the road hoping to see his Father riding up. Stop hoping someone Alistair had cheated in his many shady business deal's would kill him. it didn't take long for him to learn to hate the sunrise. Every day brought new pain, new humiliation.

 

Cas soon learned every nook and cranny of Alistair's abode, from the simply sophisticated neat common room to Alistair's bedroom, with fine chinese silk sheets, to the dark damp cold basement full of instruments Castiel learned obedience from very well. Sometimes he would just leave him tied up down there for days, with only the steady dripping to keep him company. It got to the point sometimes were Castiel was screaming and begging for him to come and hurt him, if only for some sort of human contact. The only thing worse then being hurt was being abandoned, alone, in the dark. Alistair soon began having Castiel run errands all over town, illegal or not. Castiel preformed them to the upmost quality and time he could. Alistair being very pleased when he did satisfactory job, and began allowing him nicer things as small rewards. Nicer cloths. Had him sleep at the bottom of his huge bed instead of the dark cold closet. But he would punish him horribly if he even slacked a little. It didn't take Castiel long at all to learn that Master was life, Master was everything. When Master was happy, you were happy. Alistair loved to have Castiel kneel at his feet when he ate, head bowed. If he succeeded in not making a sound or moving a muscle for whatever amount of the Alistair saw fit, he would throw him scraps of his lavish meals. Even eating them off the dirty floor was better then the hard tasteless strips of dried meat he was given normally and the dirty water. Despite all this, Castiel still hated Alistiar.  
But he hated himself more.

 

No, It didn't take long at all. It didn't take long for Castiel to pray he wouldn't wake up every time he went to sleep.

 

\---------------------------------------  
~10 YEARS LATER~  
The salty wind whipped over the well worn stained wood of the deck. The ship was huge and sculpted, latest in its time. The bow was sculpted upward in the shape of a half naked woman, as if she were bound to the ship in chains. Men bustled about, loading the last cargo and strapping things down, pulling up planks. Alistair stood from the quarterdeck, hands on hips, surveying. "She's a beauty, isn't she, Pet?" He made known. Castiel, standing obediently behind him to the side with head bowed and hands behind his back nodded. "I only hope she will serve you well, Master." He said smoothly and in a submissive tone, which he had mastered a years ago. He didn't have to see his Master's face to know he was smiling coyly. A dozen or so years gives you a good understanding of people's habits.  
"As do I. Go, begin setting up our chambers. Do it to my upmost standards. We wouldn't want to have a little disagreement on the beginning of such an important voyage, would we, Pet?" He cooed in a fakely sympathetic voice Castiel was all too familiar with. He bowed smoothly, heading down the wooden steps and slyly dodging rushing sailors, slipping through the green doors. There room was just like Alistair's usual taste. Velvet, expensive silk and mother of pearl engraved trims. Bowed out porthole on the far side. Large nailed down four poster bed, bare at the moment. Dark nailed down wooden desk of what he assumed was mahogany. Castiel immediately set to work unpacking their bags, making the bed like Master liked, silk sheets, silk over sheet, large lionskin treated throw over, knitted comforter of lamb wool. Two pillows and a thinner one with less padding on top, just the way Alistairs neck found most comfortable. He put all of his business things in the order he would need them most in the varies drawers. A flask of fine whiskey in the drawer on the nightstand. His bag of weapons and punishment instruments under the bed. Castiel's small cot was nailed down in the corner, a ways behind the bed and gratefully behind a screen. At least he had a little privacy when Alistair didn't want him in his bed. He set his bag of very meager belongings on his cot. A box of his dried meat, enough to last the whole voyage. A water flask. A square of fine silk a lady in the market had handed him, embroidered with the image of a soaring bird in gold and green thread, standing out against the vivid purple. She hadn't realized he was a slave, he supposed. She'd smiled at him, with a kind honest good natured smile. The sort of which he'd been starved of for so long. He had kept it hidden from Master for years now, and dreaded if he ever discovered it. It was the one thing that he had, that wasn't from him. In a way, he supposed, it was the last bit of freedom he had. It was silly, but it was comforting when he ran his fingers over the patterns at night, and tried to pretend he was a bird, high in the sky, free.

And then he would open his eyes, and come crashing down again. Because he wasn't free. He would never be, and he didn't deserve to be.  
But God, he could still dream.

 

He tucked the square carefully under his pillow, standing and rolling his neck, looking around to check one last time that everything was in order before heading back out.  
By this time, the ship was already set and pulling away form the harbor. He returned to Alistairs side silently. He was talking to the Captian. "The still cargo is strapped down, and the slave cattle is all set in the bilge." The scruffy man was saying. Alistair smiled. "Good. Set a course for Setebastca, Mr.Smith. We've got a huge auction to supply, and spices to sell." He said, waving the man away. He leaned against the railing. "Oh, Castiel. So loyal and obedient. Remember the auction I first found you in? Tiny little meager thing, really. Nothing like the truly sophisticated event were going to attend, in the Maszterab. Grand palace of sorts, with a huge open courtyard. Perfect to few slaves, you'll see. My kind of place- reeks of misery and money." He added, laughing. Castiel was silent, looking over the water. There were a hundred trapped people right under his feet, about to be sold away, to become like him. An idea began to form in the corner of his mind. Insane. Sneaky. Disloyal. Practically suicidal. Harebrained, really. He must be losing his wits. It would never work.

 

But there's no reason arguing with yourself when you've already made up your mind.


	4. Whispers in the Dark.

                                                        

 

He waited till it was the middle of the night, naturally. Only common sense. Looking around the edge of the screen, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. Alistair was fast asleep. He quietly pulled a handful of the lengths of dried meat from his box, tucking them in his pocket and slinging his water pouch across his shoulders. He searched through his bag of cloths until - yes! He pulled out a ring with some one sharp metal pieces.A lock picking set Alistair had given him, since a lot of his 'errands' were far from honorable. He took a deep breath and began to carefully tiptoe across the room. He'd developed the ability to be very light on his feet from getting up to go relieve himself when he slept in Master's bed. But this was much riskier. For one wild moment, he thought just the hammering of his heart against his ribcage was enough to wake the sleeping dragon. Slipping out the door and latching it slowly,he finally let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was really holding. He squinted, looking over the ship. The deck was practically empty, except for the man at the helm on the nightshift, but his eye's were to the stars. A cabin boy was asleep against a load of barrels tucked in the corner, mop still in hand. Still, Castiel kept to the shadows, until he located the door to the hold, a square in the wood with a large latch near the mizzenmast. He slowly crept into the open light, glancing at the helmsmen. His back was still turned. He quickly picked the lock as quietly as he could, also as best he could with scratching it or leaving any definable traces it had been picked. Ounce he succeeded, he tucked the metal instruments into his pockets with the meat and just barely lifted the hatch to shimy down onto the ladder, closing it gently above him. He let out a breath of relief. So far so good.

He dropped down to the gently swaying floor. It was dark, the only light filtering through the cracks in the floor boards above. On the other side of the ladder boxes and chests and barrels were strapped in with ropes. In front of him, huddled against the far walls, were a mass of people, chained to the floor. His estimation of a hundred had been off- it was more like 30. But then again, Alistair was only one of the suppliers bringing 'goods' to the auction. They shrank back as a mass when he approached, so he crouched down, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm.

"My name is Castiel. I'm here to help you."He said softly. They looked up at him with fearful untrusting eyes, and he did not blame them. A lot of muttering among themselves later, and one inched a little more forward into the light. He had striking features- strong jaw, cheekbones to rival his own, swept hair somewhere between brown and dark blonde, but he couldn't tell in this light. And the greenest eye's he had ever seen. His gaze was hard and unwavering, daring Castiel to challenge him.  
"How do you expect to help us? Beat us into submission so we are already broken stallions when we get there?" He snarled accusingly.  
Castiel flinched back at his tone and his words, averting his eyes to the floor like he was trained to. Even among those who should be his peers, old habits die hard.  
"No. Nothing like that. I ….they haven't given you any food yet, have they?" He asked simply, glancing back up. Green eyes narrowed, and a wary "No." was his reply. Castiel nodded silently, pulling the bushel of meat from his pocket. There was a few sharp intakes of breath from the huddled mass.  
"I know its not much, doesn't taste good either, but if you split it among yourselves it should at least be something. " He explained, holding it up. Something flickered in those green eyes, and he hesitated before sitting back on his heels and nodding. Taking that as a blessing, Castiel began to tear the strips up into even pieces and pass them out. A few' thank you's and a lot of desperate chewing later, his hands wear empty and a lot of them were looking at him with much less harsh eyes. He handed the water pouch to green eyes, and gestured for him to pass it around. Everyone took a swig, some couldn't restrain themselves from gulping. There was a silence, and green eye's looked over him appraisingly, sizing him up before he spoke.  
"I'm Dean."  
\-------------------------------------------------

 

Castiel made it back to bed a few hours before sunrise, just enough sleep to still serve Alistair to the best. The day went by without incident and Alistair had him sleep in his bed. He considered attempting to get up and go back down, but it seemed a hell of a lot more risky this way, so he decided against it. The next day was a little more obstacle ridden, and he earned a backhand for accidentally running into the Captain when a particularly large wave placed him off balance.

"Honestly, your so clumsy sometimes its pathetic. Oh yes, pathetic. Really sums you up in a nutshell, doesn't it?" Alistair hissed ounce they retired to their chambers. Pulling off his shirt and rolling his neck, he turned his back to him. "Go to you own meager little cot tonight, Pet." He dismissed, acid in his voice. Castiel bowed, pretending to be downcast as he turned and smirked to himself knowingly.

 

Sleep came swiftly to his Master, and soon Castiel was on his feet, out the door and down a ladder before you could say stern. He huffed as he dropped down, quelling his nerves. Dean immediately crawled a bit forward and sat up straight, as the chains prevented them from standing. "I brought more. Sorry I couldn't come last night." He panted, exhausted from the dash to avoid the helmsmen's glance backwards. He pulled the meat and water out and repeated the passing out process, before sitting down crossed legged. There were more 'thank you's this time. He was glancing around to make sure everyone had gotten some when he noticed a redhead, one of Dean's friend from the way they sat closely, was nurturing her hand against her chest. He furrowed his brow.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, concerned. Her eyes widened at being spoken to directly, and glanced at Dean. He nodded, and she came a little forward, holding out her hand. There was a nasty gash across the lower palm. "I cut my hand on a nail when the boat lurched." She explained. Castiel studied the wound. If there's one thing he knew, it was injuries. He'd had every type imaginable. "We need to clean it out, an wrap it or it'll get horribly infected." He stood, chewing his lip and looking around. Eyes landing on the strapped down barrels, he grinned and dashed over to them. The first two he found were sealed, but the third had a spout. Trust sailors to bring spirits on a journey like this. He took his empty water pouch and held it under the nose, twisting the sour. Strong smelling clear liquid sprang forth. He filled it up only a little bit before squeezing it shut again. He crossed back, kneeling besides Dean and the read head. They both seemed to understand why he was planning. Dean was ripping strips from his shirt. "What's your name?" He asked, uncapping the pouch. "Charlie." She replied, offering him a smile. It stopped him in his tracks. It had been so long since someone had really smiled at him- since that lady in the square, practically 7 years ago. He shook his head and refocused on the task at hand.

"You going to want to grit your teeth, this will sting." He instructed,holding her injured hand and readying the push above it. She took a deep breath before nodding.

He poured the rum (thats what he assumed it was, that or concentrated spirits from Jcherfet, which could leave a man blind for three days he'd heard) slowly over the gash. She hissed through her teeth, and a blonde girl rubbed soothing circles on her back. Ounce he thought it was properly sterilized, he handed the reminder of the alcohol to a dark skinned man who drank it greedily. Dean stepped in a this point, wrapping the wound with the strips of cloth expertly. He'd defiantly done it before, Castiel surmised. When all was said and done, Charlie held the hand back to her chest and thanked him and everyone feverently. There were murmurs of approval among the rest.

"Your that man's slave, aren't you? The tall one with the scraggly hair, the one who's selling us?" The blonde girl burst out. Dean smacked her on the arm. "Jo!" he hissed.  
Castiel looked down at the floor.  
Yes." He replied. There was a heavy silence.  
"How long?" Charlie asked nervously. Castiel considered this for a moment.  
"Around 10 years, I think. Every since I was a boy." He shrugged. He didn't have to look up to know some of them winced. There were no children, luckily, on this slave ship.  
"What's it like?" A woman with plump cheeks asked meekly from the back.  
Castiel pursed his lips. "I would imagine its different for every slave and Master. Alistair is……if the devil had a son, that son would fear my Master." He said, chicly darkly at his analogy. Then he grew still, and something inside him clicked. His head whipped up to looked every single one of them in the eye with a hard gaze, the kind of which he wouldn't dare use outside this dark prison.  
"But you don't have to worry about that. Because your not going to become like me." He said with conviction. Before anyone could question him, he pull this lock picking set from his pocket. He pulled a few different instruments from the ring- there were at least 3 dozen individual metal utensils on the ring, some better then others at their job, but all good enough. Everyone's eyes flicked between what was in his hand and him. He held them out to Dean. " Pass them out. And at all costs, keep them hidden. Practice when you are sure no one will know. then relock the chains. Do not try and use them before the minute we pull into the port. The city of Deleraz, where the auction is being held, is huge and dirty and crowded, and if all of you surge out of the ship at ounce and get lost in the crowd, you stand a much better chance." He instructed. They all stared at him like he had just proclaimed himself an angel of god. Dean slowly reached forward and accepted them. There was reverent silence as they were passed back, one piece to every three people.

"Will you come with us?" Jo asked. Castiel froze. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. He considered it, trying to wrap his brain around the idea of escaping. Of being free of Alistair. At a glance, it sounded like Heaven. But he shook his head. "No. I am already broken. This life is all I have left, and all I deserve. But you can escape that fate." He said quietly.

There was a pregnant silence, filled only with the sounds of a sleeping ship rocking on the swells of an empty sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debating wether to include Alistair sexually abusing Castiel as well, I mean, this is slavery, and this is Alistair.  
> Having him sleep at the bottom of his bed as a sign of dominance and ownership is one thing, but I could elaborate.  
> Thoughts?


	5. An Echo on the Edge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello  
> Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound  
> Alone, alone  
> I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now
> 
> I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
> Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
> Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright  
> But it's never enough
> 
> Cause my echo, echo  
> Is the only voice coming back  
> Shadow, shadow  
> Is the only friend that I have  
> -  
> Jason Walker, "Echo"

                                                              

Over the next two weeks, Castiel snuck down to the hold as often as he could, with food and water. He longer he spent with those people, the more he began to wish this voyage wouldn't end. He hated himself for the selfish thoughts, but he couldn't help them. It had been so long since anyone had treated him like he was worth anything. Since he could look someone in the eye, and speak without fear of pain. He had been starved of any physical contact besides that of punishment or Alistair's sadistic little head pats, like he really was just a pet. Soon, they would be pulling into the port, and Castiel had very conflicted feelings on the matter. On one had, Dean and the others would escape and be free. On the other, he would be all alone again.  
He hated himself more and more as each day passed. It seemed the more time he spent with Dean especially, the more his shattered worthless soul was coming back to life, piece by piece. Turns out, Dean was a Captain. And not just any pirate. And not just any pirate- A Captain. The Infamous Goodheart King, he had heard mentioned in many market places. Free's slave, steals from corrupt rich bastards,sails to dangerous far off places in search of treasure and to fight rumored beasts.He has an agreement with the King of Halaera to fight for him against the fleets of Setebastca, if he feels like it. In Halaera, slavery was outlawed, as it was in many other neighboring countries. But despite this, the traffic still ran rampant, smuggling captured citizens from free countries and selling them in places like Setebastca and Gadni. Some of the others were skeptical, but Castiel didn't doubt it. Dan exuded and air of confidence and power and kindness, even in chains. One night, they were all in a circle, drinking an eating, and Dean was telling the story of how he'd once accidentally married the Duke of Gadni. And at one point, Castiel laughed.  
He let out a bubble of laughter, and then froze, shocked.  
He hadn't laughed in ten years.  
He had quickly bid his goodbyes and scrambled out and back to Alistair's chambers, curling up in his cot. His heart was pounding, even though he was in no danger.  
\-----------------  
"So, Castiel, where are you from?" Dean asked idly one night, while everyone else was situating themselves to get to sleep. The question stilled the other man. He stared down at his hands.  
"Halaera. In the country. Outside Setu."He replied, voice taught.  
Dean seemed to sense he had stepped into dangerous territory. "Im sorry if I brought up bad memories." He said softly.  
Castiel shook his head. "No, I loved were I grew up. The lake, the fields, the bluffs. There was this one…." He smiled, a small, nostalgic smile that would break a kitten's heart."…if you climbed up at the right moment, you would watch the sun rise so it looked like the whole world was burning. Don't get me started on the apple tree's. No, I loved it there. All the more painful it was to be ripped away, as you could imagine." He added, voice breaking a little. He shook his head, turning away.  
"But that doesn't matter. Its in the past."  
Dean touched his shoulder gently, drawing his attention back to those green eyes. They were uncharacteristically soft, gazing at him with some mixture of pity and caring that took his breath away. "Yeah, its in the past. But that doesn't mean it doesn't matter." He pursed his lips.  
"It just means you can move forward from it." He said gently.  
Castiel gulped past a lump in his throat, and for a moment, they just sat there, gazing at each other, like they were both searching for all life's answer's in each other's eyes.  
\----------------------

 

Castiel awoke to the sound of the Captian's bellow's, jerking upright.  
"LAND HO!" He called. Men cheered, and Alistair grinned a genuine smile of relief, to be on land once more.

But Castiel's heart- whatever remained of it- sank to the pit of his stomach.

The morning sun was just gracing the sky, over a scene that had many sailors hooting and hollering. The great city of Deleraz, grand buildings of stone and bright paint flowing like a blanket over the towering hillside's surrounding the harbor. To the left rose a huge jagged cliff, waves crashing against its base. Atop it, a huge castle-like structure stood proud, surrounded by lavish gardens. The sight filled Castiel with glee and despair.  
The closer they got too the harbor, Castiel positioned himself over the cargo hold, waiting, just as they'd planned. Soon, men were scrambling on the boat and on the dock, throwing ropes to each other. Just as all the ties were synched off and the boat ramp went down, Castiel slammed his foot down three times, then two, then a pause, then three again. No one noticed on deck, but three and then four raps came from below.  
The blue-eyed slave's throat closed up. It was time.

 

It happened in a blur, really. One minute they were opening the hatch to start unloading the cargo, and the next slaves were pouring out, kicking and screaming and punching, taking the crew completely by surprise. Before anyone could blink, they were already off the boat and down the ramp, blending into the crowd. A few straggled behind, and Alistair whipped out his musket and shot out wildly. The black man, Nigel, screamed, the momentum of the bullet peircing his back sending him tumbling over the side of the railing and into the water. But by then the rest were gone. A sailor went to go down and check on him, but another stopped him.  
"Better death then life as a salve, mate." He said sadly.

Alistair cursed, throwing down the gun. He ran his hands through his hair, as the crew began to dejectedly unload the inanimate cargo. "This is a disaster!"He shouted, slamming a fist down on the railing.  
"Im terribly sorry Master.It is an absolute disgrace those of such low caliber as me would dare disrespect one such as you so. Disgusting."Casriel swiftly agreed, in a docile tone. Alistair sighed.  
"At least ill always have your loyalty, won't I, Castiel?"He said, an edge too his voice.  
Castiel looked out over the city, were they had disappeared. They were gone. And he was alone, again.  
That man's voice came back to him- 'Better death then life as a slave.'  
The sinking feeling in his stomach grew stronger.  
HIs nights with Dean and Charlie and the others had brought him back to life, even if just a little. And now he was dying all over again.  
"Yes, sir.Always."Castiel replied.  
"Till the day I die."  
\----------------------------------

 

The Maszterab was elegant and seductive, like the dark skinned woman adorned in thing light drapping veil's and cloths, fringed with gold clinking beads, that danced in her halls. Yellow stone carved into architecture to make any educated man drool. Tapestries of the darkest most vivid materials adding a layer of mystique. Some sort of incense burning everywhere made the air heavy and intoxicating, and everything almost seemed to be happening in slow motion. A crowd of dancing people, dressed in the finest bright colored cloth, like a rainbow trimmed in gold moving and snaking and twisting in and out of itself. To the sides and in the fro carrying trays of beverages and foods were his fellow slaves, mostly dressed in less extravagant fabric. Unfortunately, Alistair gained twisted satisfaction in dressing Castiel in silk trousers, light and a dark blue, shimmering and clinging to his body in rather obscene ways when he moved, and nothing else besides a thing gold collar, marking him as property, and a vest of sorts. It luckily covered his back, but the sides in the front were embarrassingly lacking, revealing his chest and torso . If you were to get close enough, you could make out the thin white wavy spiraling lines when Alistair had taken a knife to his font, dipping over his hip bones, arching over his chest and collar bones. Alistair liked them, said they made him even prettier. Castiel had to admit, if human skin were an acceptable canvas in the artist's guild, Alistair would be the greatest of them all. You could also see some of the burn marks over his left abdomen, were the skin was particularly sensitive. But none of the guests seemed to be bothered by this. If anything, they eyed him even more appreciably, like he was candy or some sculpture. He supposed he was both, in a way. The cook had enough slaves to serve the guests, so he and some others were left to wait obediently too the sidelines. A few had already wandered off. Alistair was very preoccupied, creating and dining and dancing with everyone he could, with his wicked snake charmer smile. Watching him, Castiel's mind began to wander, and the raw ache in his chest he'd had since he'd first been sold seemed to have tripled in agony since the escape. Soon, he found himself slipping away down a hall, ambling away from the festivities. The only light was the torches and moonlight through the windows.

He came across a few people in his wandering, but they passed without a word. Until, of course, he rounded a corner and accidentally bumped into a woman. his eyes widened, and his heart quickened in fear. He bowed down in sumbission to a freeman, stammering. "I'm-Im so sorry ma'am, please-"  
But he was cut off by a light jingling laugh, and glanced up. Only to freeze in shock. it was- but it couldn't be!  
"It's you!" he gasped.She grinned- yes, same kind smile, ice blue eyes, long black hair and pale skin. The woman in the market place that had given him the silk square. Which was ironically tucked in between in silk waistline and his hip. She flipped her locks. "Yes, I am me. Well, that depends on the definition of me. Is me you, or is me me? Or is me someone else altogether?" She pondered, voice happy, but heavy with wisdom uncommon of her years. He blinked in confusion, and she merely shrugged. "But, your not going to be you for much longer, are you? You better get too that, before your master comes looking. This things can be time sensitive, so I've heard. Go along. The place your looking for is down the hall, two lefts and three doors down. Good luck. Don't over think it, just trust your heart and you'll fall right were your supposed to."She perped, turning and gliding away, humming a carefree tune. He stared after her, heart pounding. How had she- was she talking about what he thought she was? He turned, and cautiously followed the directions she'd given him.  
One,  
Two-  
He stopped in his tracks.  
How could she have known what he was thinking?  
The third door was wide open, leading to a grand balcony, empty save plants in giant metal vases. The railing was up o his waist, thick and nicely carved. It overlooked the edge of the cliff, waves crashing viciously against the jagged rocks below. Heart threatening to beat out of his chest, he slowly approached the railing. He hesitantly laid his hands down on it. Cool under his feverish hands.  
Better death then life as a slave.  
He felt tears begin to track down his face, but he didn't care. The world was fading away, everything narrowing down as he slowly raised himself up, clambering to standing precariously on the railing. The salty wind tore at him desperately, whipping his hair about. He stared down at the gaping oblivion below him , death staring him in the face. All his scars seemed to start to ache, reminiscent of past pain and present alike. He could here Alistair's voice,hot in his ear, he could feel his callused hands on his skin. He saw the faces of his siblings circle around his head, Michael's back turned to him as he left, he saw Dean glance back one more time before dodging behind a cart. He saw Gabriel and the rest leave and watched his mother's pale skin wither away to hallowed cheeks and waxy temples. He was standing on the bluff, in the branches of an apple tree, and the wind wasn't salty. It was warm and smelled like mint and corn husks. He closed his eyes, and willed himself there, looking over the fields and the sun and there little house. Father in the garden. He willed himself next to Dean and Charlie and Jo, and then he imagined them free and happy. He reached down and extracted the silk square, clutching it in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the bird pattern. Slowly, he spread out his arms like wings, and put one foot forward.  
Better death then life as a slave.  
By some laws, this was illegal, considering his life belonged to another. But he felt something rise up in him above the pain, anger, an urge to spit his tormenter in the biggest way possible. A way to be free, finally, completely, in the only way he deserved.  
And then, with one deep breath. He let himself go. Just as the world was beginning to tilt, as he was about to fall- no, fly- a hand grasped the back of his over tunic and suddenly, he was being jerked back.


	6. Take My Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You saw my pain washed out in the rain  
> Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
> But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart  
> And you knelt beside my hope torn apart
> 
> But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view  
> We'll live a long life
> 
> So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
> 'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
> But I will hold as long as you like  
> Just promise me we'll be alright  
> -Mumford & Sons 'The Ghosts That We Knew."

 

                                                     

 

Before he even hit the balcony ground he knew he was doomed, terror gripping him. He smacked onto his back, but he wasn't even phased by that. Oh god. Oh god. Alistair was going to hurt him so badly for attempting such a thing- he might cut off a finger. Or two. He felt a body hovering over his, and felt hands grab him. But they weren't aggressive. They were gentle and frantic, checking him over, as if for injuries. He cracked open a clenched eyelid in confusion. And his breath caught in his throat. He wasn't looking into dark cruel beady eyes. He was staring up into concerned bright green ones, full of panic and worry.

"Dean? Wha-what are you doing here?"He stammered in shock. Maybe he was dead, and this was just an illusion.  
The other man furrowed his brow. "Me? What are you doing! You were- were- you were going to- why?"His frustrated tone faded to breathless and weak. Castiel felt emotions bubble up in a way they hadn't in years, and he threw up his arms, tears beginning to run down his face. "Why? WHY? What kind of question- why do you think?" He exclaimed. Dean ran a hand over his face.  
"Yeah, but- you could have came with me, I asked you so many times. Would you really rather die then be free?"He said, confusion etched in his features. Castiel turned away, wrapping his arms around himself. He was shaking- he was very scantily dressed for this chilly sea breeze. Dean seemed to notice. He shrugged off his well worn leather jacket, gently laying it over Castiel's shoulders. He tensed at first, so used to the only touch being pain. But then he forced himself to relax.  
"I-I can't."He said, swallowing past a lump in his throat.  
"What do you mean by that? Please, Cas, explain this to me. Please." Dean begged. Castiel clenched his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.  
"I-Its like a puzzle. Say there's this one puzzle piece. It fits pretty good into the first puzzle, but the its ripped out and trimmed, cut, beaten, squeezed and suffocated until it fits into the second puzzle. But if you take it back out an try to put it back into the first puzzle- Its not going to fit, anymore, Dean. And I don't deserve to. Im just a slave- its all Im good for."Cas whispered brokenly. There was a heavy silence.

"Bullshit." Dean's level voice replied. Castiel turned in confusion. Dean's expression was plain and honest and open.  
"Do you know what you don't deserve? You don't deserve to live a slave, or to die. You deserve to be free, Castiel. You may not know it yet, but if you come with me, you will. I- you've been hurt so badly, I couldn't imagine. And I know its not going to go away overnight. But please. Life isn't a puzzle of strict lines and spaces. If you don't fit in that first puzzle, whatever life you had before, then come with me and we'll build a whole new puzzle around us." Dean paused, looking at him with a gaze full of a compassion and hope Castiel had never been looked at like before.

 

"Run away with me, Castiel."He said breathlessly, eyes bright as he held out a hand.  
The other man stared down at the hand, biting his lip. Images swirled in his mind. Alistair, his home, his brother, his closet he slept in, that woman with the silk squares and strange words, His master's knives and wipe and tools, those slaves he had freed. The way Dean threw back his head when he laughed, the way Charlie's eyes crinkled when she smiled. Slowly, he reached out and took Dean Winchester's hand. And it was like his whole world snapped into a surreal focus.  
\------------------------------------------  
They hurried down the empty halls, hand in hand as Dean led him through a maze of corridors.  
"Do you have anything we should go get before we go?" Dean asked suddenly.  
Castiel shook his head. "I have everything I need. How are we supposed to get out of here?"He questioned, looking frantically behind him. Dean grinned.  
"Down in the sub kitchens. We have someone on the inside who left a serving door open, we snuck into the holding chamber and smuggled everyone out that way and down through the gardens and woods, the Impala is anchored just shy of the cliff face, so no one can see it form up here. Everyone's already aboard, I cam back for you." Dean explained. Castiel tripped a little, staring at his companion. "You risked yourself to come find me?"He said, shocked. Dean nodded, pulling him down a servants staircase. Castiel was speechless as he followed.  
The sub kitchen was clean and lifeless, obviously never used. A door was wide open to the left, like a square of moonlight in the dark dusty room. Castiel paused, and Dean looked back in concern. Castiel's eyes were trained on the doorway, wide.  
"This is it. I…I step through that door, and I'm free. Im leaving everything behind. I could go back now, to Alistair, and carry on. He'll probably let me sleep in the bed tonight, you know. He'll be so pleased after all the festivities."He muttered. After a moment, he seemed to snap out of the daze. He turned to Dean, and nodded strongly. Dean grinned, and gestured forward.  
"You first."  
A few steps.  
He was at the threshold.  
One strong steady stride that seemed to last a lifetime and he was out into the cool salty air. He opened his eyes. He turned to Dean, a small flicker of life in his eyes that sent hope to Dean's heart.  
Castiel took Dean's hand. "Lead the way, my Captain." He said shakily.

Dean lead him down through the fragrant gardens and through the spicket of woods, down deer trails to a rock beach behind the cliff face.  
"There she is. The Impala." Dean said proudly. Out in the water, silhouetted in moonlight, was a large, elegant ship, black and gleaming, the mast a carved lion roaring to the sky.  
"Its..amazing."He breathed.  
Dean opened his mouth to reply, but a shout from behind them interrupted. "Castiel!" A familiar angry voice screamed.  
Fear gripped him, and he whirled to see Alistair rushing down the footpath, face livid and red. Dean cursed and grabbed his hand again, and they ran to the small boat harbored on the sand.  
"Get in!"He shouted, untying it from the rock and giving it a mighty shove, before clambering in after him. Castiel was handed a row, and they both paddled like mad, Castiel white and shaking with terror. Alistair screamed and wadded in up to his hips, but dare not come farther. Soon, they were halfway to the boat and Alistair was running back up the hill. Castiel couldn't catch his breath.  
"You don't think he'll come after us, do you?" Dean asked.  
Castiel shrugged. "I-I have no idea."  
Dean sighed. "Well,, we'd better get a move on either way, They'll surely have discovered the rest of the slaves are missing as well. Besides, there are some people that are dying to meet you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a short chapter, sorry. Ive recently had an invasive surgery and the recovery has left me bedridden on a lot of pain medication, so this update took a bit longer :/ But reading comments would certainly cheer me up, if you would like.


	7. Calm Battles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life.  
> To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;  
> And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,  
> And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.  
> -John Masefeild

 

                                                        

 

The closer they got to the Impala, the more Castiel was awed by its sleek but powerful build. Dean was smiling in obvious pride. Any Captain loved his ship, but Dean seemed to care for it on a whole other level.  
"Sam, your brother?" Cas remembered. Dean nodded.  
"Yeah, you'l meet him. I told him all about you, how you helped us and saved us. Here, pull up the oar." Dean suddenly instructed, standing as the pulled next to the hull. A rope ladder tumbled down from above, and two ropes with hooks.  
"Climb up, ill secure the boat." Dean said, grabbing the hook and pulling it towards a ring at the bow of the boat. Castiel reached up, and struggled to begin pulling himself up. Soon, hands reached down and helped him climb over the edge, and he stood on the deck.  
"Cas!" A familiar voice shout in joy, and he turned just in time to be enveloped in a flying hug by Charlie. He stiffened in fear for a moment, but relaxed. Jo was close behind her, clapping him on the arm.  
"We were afraid you wouldn't come." Charlie exclaimed giddily.  
Cas shrugged, face flushing and ducking his head as he saw there was a crowd of people loosely gathered around them he didn't know.  
"D-Dean was very convincing." He replied quietly, suddenly scared. What if all these other people didn't like him like Dean and the girls seemed too?  
Dean pulled himself over the railing and grinned. A tall man with rather long brown hair to his shoulders headed forward, embracing him.  
"Everyone, This is Castiel. He saved our lives." He announced, resting a hand on Cas' shoulder. He blushed, and there was a cheer and many smiles.  
"Sam, are those people settled in?" Dean asked the tall man.  
"We gave them food and water and cleaned up any injuries, there all in cots now below getting some rest." Sam replied, nodding.  
"Good, now, we should probably get out of here bef-" Dean began, but was cut off by a loud exploding sound and the ship jerking, and many stumbled. Castiel fell to the floor, and curled up in himself in panic, looking around.  
"There's a ship coming round port captain- Its Alistiar's!" A shout from the helm came. Dean crouched next to Cas, cursing. "Get us out of here!" He screamed.  
"There's no wind, or waves! All we can do is row- we'll never get out in time now without the cannons tearing the ship apart!" Sam cried back, trying to help Jo to her feet as another blast sent them tumbling. Dean's eyes were wide with panic as he ran to the port side, through the crowd. Castiel and everyone followed him. No doubt, it was Alistair's ship approaching, cannons smoking. In a moment, it was only yards from them, straight across. Another cannon almost sent Sam over the edge, but a smaller guy with black hair and stubble pulled him back. People were scrambling, to get down to row, to the cannons to try and retaliate, but one look at Dean told Castiel they were in a very bad spot. He looked down at the water, at the ships, and the cannons pointed directly at them. He ripped off his tunic and pressed the silk square into Dean's hand. Before anyone could process it he was up and over the railing, diving into the dark water.  
\--------------------------------  
"Castiel!" Dean screamed, reaching out to pull him back, but he was already gone. Everyone jumped, craning forward to see where he had went. Dean felt like he couldn't breath.  
"What the hell is he doing?" Sam cried. Dean just shook his head, speechless as they watched the water for any sign of him.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
It had been years since Cas had done this, but the water seemed to welcome him, the current propelling him forward and wreathing around him like silk. He sliced through the water, kicking his feet. He popped up and paddled forward when he reached the other boat, pushing himself up with his feet and grabbing one of the nets and climbing it. He flipped himself over the railing and looked around. No one saw him, they were all too busy running about. He rushed to the hatch and climbed down, running to the cargo. He searched desperately until finally- yes! He grabbed the box and ripped it open. Gun powder.  
He searched more until he found everything he needed, and after taking a deep breath, ripped open the door to the cannon hold.  
\------------------------------------------------  
Dean could nay watch desperately as cannon ball after cannon back fired back and forth between the two ships. He'd watched Cas climb up into the ship- how had he gotten over there? Had he gone back to Alistair, not wanting to die on this ship? The tried to row away, but the other ship only matched there speed. With a sea as calm as this, they needed a miracle to outstretch the other ship.  
Just then, he watched a figure jump one the railing and splash into the water, just as a huge explosion blew out the belly of the other ship. Screams rang from Alistair's vessel, cheers from Dean's.  
"Throw down the ladder!" A familiar voice called. Dean gave a whoop of joy, and Sam obeyed. With a huff, Cas plopped over the edge and onto the deck, dripping wet. Everyone stared at him wordlessly for a moment.  
"How the hell-" Dean stammered. Castiel felt heat rush to his face, and he looked up and smiling unsteadily.  
"Uh- you know, in all honesty…I never really fit in the puzzle in the first place. I blew up the cannons."He said, shrugging. Just then, the wind picked up and the sail caught, and they were gliding. Sam sighed in relief.  
Everyone went on back to there posts. Castiel turned back to the railing, looking up at the Maszterab. He squinted- no, it couldn't be- but yes, right on the balcony he had almost jumped from, silhouetted in the light, was that woman. She smiled and waved, and the wind picked up even more, shoving them forward. Dean came to stand by his side.  
"Im free."Castiel whispered.  
Dean grinned, and pulled him into a hug. He didn't stiffen at all this time.  
\---------------------  
"The damage isn't threatening, but we should be in the next port for a few weeks during repairs."Sam reported.  
They stood in Dean's captains chambers. Unlike Alistair's, who's had been dark and reeked of meaning dominance and power, Dean's were bright and gold and warm. Cas sat on the edge of the four poster bed, wrapping in a drying cloth while Sam and Dean sorted things out.  
"Good. Is there any room down in the chambers for Cas anywhere?" Dean asked, causing the former slave to glance up.  
Sam grimaced. "Uh, no, with all the slaves we free'd its pretty crowded…"  
Cas felt fear grip his heart. Was he going to have to sleep in a closet?  
Dean seems to consider this news, sitting at his desk and twirling a paperweight. "Well, you'll just have to stay in here then, Castiel. Is that alright? Because if not I'm sure we could figure out something." He added. Cas shook his head. "No, its alright. Here is better then a cargo hold."  
Dean smiled, nodding. He turned to Sam.  
"Night, Sammy. Keep true to Halaera." he said, standing and bidding his goodbye. He shut the door behind Sam and stretched his arms.  
"So, you can have the bed, I'm fine with the floor." he said, pulling open a linen cupboard. Castiel's eyes widened.  
"What- no, I couldn't." He exclaimed.  
Dean fixed him with a look. "Your my guest, and you've been through enough tonight. Your sleeping on the bed, no matter what." He said, in a no nonsense tone.  
Castiel nodded. He glanced back at the four poster bed, and an idea wiggled its way into his brain.  
"Alright, but, it's quite a big bed. It seems silly anyone should have to sleep on the floor." He said slowly.  
Dean froze. "I-I wouldn't way to make you uncomfortable." He replied, running a hand through his hair. Castiel shrugged.  
"Its a big bed Dean, its not like we'll be on top of each other." He said exasperatedly.  
Dean paused, before he nodded and shut the cabinet.  
"Ill change behind the screen, then there are some dry cloths on the rack for you." He said, grabbing his own and heading for the folding screen in the corner of the room. He paused at the edge.  
"Thank you, Castiel. For everything."


	8. Rage of the Loyal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It makes sense, for someone who's never had barely anything, to cling to that which they do have desperately, and will defend it no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your hands protect the flames  
> From the wild winds around you
> 
> Icarus is flying too close to the sun  
> Icarus's life, it has only just begun  
> It's just begun
> 
> Standing on the cliff face  
> Highest foe you'll ever grace  
> It scares me half to death  
> -'Icarus', Bastille  
> (LISTEN TO THEM)

                                                  

 

 

 

Sleeping in the same bed was…not as awkward as Castiel had imagined. It was different from Alistiar. For one thing, when they were getting in, Cas had crawled halfway down the bed with the ingrained intention of curling up at the bottom. It took him a strange look from Dean for him to freeze, and crawl back up. Ounce they were under the blankets, Cas explained himself, and Dean's jaw clenched.

"He was one sick bastard, alright." Dean muttered.  
Cas looked away. "He enjoyed treating me like a pet, yes. But he never……did the sort of things in bed I've heard other masters do to there slaves. Which I've always been grateful for. I couldn't- I don't think I would have been able to bear it. I mean, a few times, he…made me…with my mouth…but nothing serious." He whispered.  
Dean nodded. "I was wondering about that. Im glad. You may have been handed a really shitty hand in life, but at least it wasn't as terrible as it could have been." He said, then winced. "That…sounded better in my head…" He muttered.  
"I mean, he still violated you, anything like that is bad, but- I just- I ment-" he stuttered, tripping over his own tongue. Castiel burst out laughing, turning to grin at him. "Its alright, I understand."  
Dean's heart stuttered as Cas grinned up at him, a wide, relaxed, completely unrestrained smile. He nodded.  
"Get some sleep,Cas. We've got lots to do in the morning." He said, leaning over and pinching out the candle.  
They were plunged into darkness, and for the first time in along time, Castiel was unafraid.  
\---------  
The next morning, he woke up to breakfast in bed. Dried meat and bread, ale, and some orange squishy fruit. Next to the food on the tray was a sharp, sleek, well crafted dagger. Castiel froze apron seeing it. Dean was standing, looking proud at the end of the bed, but his face fell when he saw Castiel stiffen.  
"Oh- I- I just-its a gift. I thought- I wanted you to have something of your own, to protect yourself with in case anything ever happens- I didn't think, shit, I'm sorry." He gibbered, realizing his mistake and moving forward to take the knife away. Castiel stopped him.  
"Its fine, I was just surprised. Nobodies….well, actually, thats not quite true. Im just not used to getting gifts. I only own one thing to my name thats truly mine." Castiel explained, shrugging. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, furrowing his brow quizzically.  
"Whats that?" He asked.  
Castiel blushed, ducking his head. "Its silly…" He muttered.  
Dean shook his head. "Im sure its not, tell me." He insisted. Castiel caved, and explained about the woman in the square and the square of silk. He left out his encounter with her at the manor, still not sure it had really happened.  
Dean listened intently the whole time.  
"Of course that means a lot to you. Its not silly at all. Im glad you had something to hang onto, to give you hope." Dean said, nodding.  
Castiel pondered this, swallowing a bite of the fruit.  
"Me too. But…if it wouldn't be to much trouble, I think id like to start hanging onto you to." He asked, glancing up.  
Dean didn't hesitate for a moment to say yes.  
\--------------------------------  
Castiel soon learned all sorts of things. The names and faces of the crew, from Sam, the first mate, to Bobby the weapons keeper, to Ellen and Jo, the cooks, to Garth, Pamela, Benny, the main deckhands, even to Charlie and Kevin, who where researchers and chroniclers. Castiel didn't quite understand there jobs, everyone was rather vague about it. But he paid it no mind, as he was taught the names of the parts of the ship from helm to stern, the masts and the ropes and the crows nest, how everything played its part with the sea and sky to sail them towards the endless horizon. The issue of what Casteil's job was going to be if he was joining them arose, on the fourth day. Castiel suddenly went cold. He could cook, clean, pick locks, swim, fight, and even get down on his knee's for another man (which Dean had specifically told him would not ever be required besides his own volition). But while most of these were great skills for begin part of the crew, he had no specific skill to give him a place. Dean said they'd work it out and not to worry, but Castiel couldn't help it. The more days that passed, he tried everything, but there where more then enough people to clean and cook and load cargo and steer. He started to grow desperate. If he was useless, if he couldn't contribute, maybe Dean and the other's would grow sick of him. Just like his family did. Just like Alistair did when he would lock him in the closet for hours.  
But at least Alistair had come back.  
\---------------------------------------  
A week or so out, and they ran into trouble. A rival ship , rather tiny, but sharp and with big canons, led by some fiery hellish looking woman named Abbadon, all in black leather and thin white cotton, so you could easily see her breasts. She didn't even try to reason, just bashed into them and began to lay fire. Bobby went pale, and many of the crewmen began to mutter prayers.Dean had mentioned her- having tormented them for almost a decade whenever she could, vicious, having killed many of there friends. Abbaddons canon's where somewhat more well aimed then Alistairs had been, and instantly took out there canon ports and boarding gear. Dean cursed, and suddenly people were running about and the freed slaves where screaming below in terror. Dean tried to pull him towards his chambers, screaming about something, but Castiel zoned him out. It felt like his mind was working a mile a minute. He ripped himself out of Dean's grasp, and was climbing the shaking ropes to the crows nest. He knew exactly what he had to do, and everything clicked into place. Apon reaching the high loft, he slashed the taught forward rope with Dean's knife, wrapped it around his forearm, braced his shoulder and shifted his weight, and suddenly he was flying. And god, did it feel good. He was swinging across the gap between the boats, but her knew the rope wasn't long enough to carry him across. He held his breath, as the swing reached its peak, and let go, throwing himself forward. He tumbled onto the deck of the smaller ship, and sprang up. 9 crew, 6 armed, disclosing the caption. A man with a nasty scar across his face surged for castiel, but he kicked him between the legs and smashed his face into his knee, leaving his drooling on the floor. Then, quick as a viper, just as Alistair had taught him, he cuffed another younger woman over the head when she lifted a mace at him, and spun around, slashing out and knocking the blades out of the hands of two brutish twins, the momentum of the action sending them smacking into some barrels.He trend, breathing heavily, and the remaining man tossed down his knife and came at Castiel with swinging fists. The familiar sight froze Castiel for a moment, instinctively bracing himself to receive a blow, and he was back handed hard in the face. He fell to the side, blood dripping from his lips. HIs first instinct was to curl up and take it. Just like he always did. But then, as he tasted his own blood and remembered where he was, he felt something snap inside him. The man stepped on his hand to keep him from slashing up, but before the man could land another blow, Castiel twisted around and sank his teeth into the back of his leg with all his strength. The hand screamed and fell back, blood puddling around him as he clutched his leg and tried to shimmy away. Castiel stood, heart pounding, blood dripping from his teeth, full of rage as he turned towards Abbadon. She stood alone on the foredeck, backed up against the side of the ship in shock and confusion. He didn't know who she was, but she had come and tried to kill the only people that had ever cared about him, and tore apart Dean's beloved ship even more, and killed the friends of his friends. He had caused them pain, and he would return the favor. He stalked up to her, and she drew her serrated knife and hissed at him.  
"Who the hell are you? How did you do that?" She exclaimed, anger and intrigue in her eyes.  
He glared at her. "Its amazing what you can do once you refuse to be a victim anymore. Now leave me friends alone, you hag." He hissed. She snarled, and he fake pretended to strike out with his knife. She bought it, and went to block his blow. While she was distracted by that, he kicked out, hitting her square in the stomach and sending her tumbling overboard with a shriek. The noise called the canon manners up from the hold, and they stared at him, before silently ducking back down. No more canons fired. Castiel considered using a plank from Abbadons ship to get back over, but that was much to slow. He sheathed his knife and dived overboard, slicing through the water. The ladder was already down before he even surfaced, which made him smile.  
Apon climbing back up and plopping onto the deck, covered in blood and water and suddenly exhausted, he found once again every pair of eyes staring at him. Dean pushed his way froward, crouching down next to him. He helped Castiel up and started to half drag him to the Captain's quarters.  
"We need to talk." He hissed out of the corner of his mouth, and fear filled Castiel. His mind started to jump all over the place. He'd done something wrong. Dean was mad. Everyone was looking at him- not in appreciation like he had hoped, probably fear. They didn't want him anymore. Maybe he had undermined some sort of authority? Was that mutiny? Would they get rid of him, or would they just turn him into a punching bag and a stress relief? Of course they hated him, how could he ever think they liked him, oh god, whatever they did he deserved it. His heart beat to the rhythm of every scatterbrained insecurity and fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SOOORRYYYY THIS TOOK SO LONG UGH SO MUCH STRESS AND WRITERS BLOCK but hey at least I didn't take like a month right  
> also  
> I didn't get that many comments to encourage me to write harder  
> PUSH ME  
> MAKE ME DO IT GUYS COME ON ITS OKAY BOTHER ME ABOUT IT  
> sorry for any realy bad typos or anything I tried my best to edit it but its night time and my beta readers are all out for the count right now so


	9. Highs and Lows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger is a secondary emotion- it starts with someone being hurt or afriad.  
> Or maybe a bit of both?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for the lonely,  
> the one's that seek and find  
> Only to be let down  
> time after  
> time  
> This one's for the torn down,  
> the experts at the fall  
> Come on friends get up now  
> you're not alone  
> at all.  
> -Greg Laswell, Comes and Goes.

 

                                                    

Dean's chambers, once a place of safety of warmth, now filled him with fear and dread. Dean rounded on him the minute the door was closed.  
"What the hell was that? What were you even thinking!" He exclaimed. Castiel fought the urge to flinch.  
"I was thinking you were in danger." He replied softly, staring down at the floor.  
Dean gaped at him. "You- us? In danger? Cas- I had to watch that guy knock you down, and I thought he was going to kill you. Right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything! Because you just ran off without a word! Didn't it occur to you we both could have went over there? I just had to sit and watch! You could have died, she would have killed slowly and painfully." Dean was shouted by now, his face contorted like he was holding back tears and rage. Cas stared at him, shocked, speechless. Dean kept going, gesticulating desperately.  
"I couldn't- I wouldn't have been able to protect you!" He exclaimed. Something sparked in Castiel.  
"In case you hadn't noticed, I can take care of myself." He said, suddenly offended.  
Dean rolled his head away, shoulders sagging.

"Thats..not what I meant! I meant- You could have at least, I don't know, said something, pointed, signaled, but no! In a second you were gone, and on the other side, and I had no way to get over to you! No idea until it was too late, and I just had to watch, and it was terrifying! Abbadon…. don't get me wrong. What you did was fucking amazing, but if it had been even a little bit different, more people, something, she could have overtaken you. And- stab you, sell you, drown you, shoot you- she would have taken you away from me, just like her and her brothers took away my parents! Just like they took away my brother! Just like they took away the love of Sam's life!" Dean turned back to him, legitimate tears in his angry, desperate eyes.  
"Thats what they do, Cas. Abbadon and Azazel. They take and they take everything they can get, rip it away and leave you bleeding and alone. And if she had done that to you- ." Dean suddenly cut his own cracking voice off. "Im overreacting. What you did was amazing, and great, and brave…and if it had been anyone else- but her, and god, I was terrified. Im….sorry." He finally muttered.  
Cas felt emotions collide inside him.  
Relief, confusion, affection, anger, pride, pity. He could have done a hundred things in that moment, but he found himself hesitantly stepping forward.  
"I understand. Its alright. From now on, ill do something to tell you first when I run off and play soldier. After all, your the Captain." He added with a smirk.  
Dean laughed softly, looking him up and down with a mischievous glance. "Yes, and your my Second Mate." He declared finally. Castiel blinked in surprise.  
"Me? Wh-what exactly does that mean?" He stuttered.  
Dean shrugged. "Your good with people, and the best in a fight I've seen in a long time. Consider yourself the……security officer. Yeah, something like that. My General, if we were some army of sorts. " Dean pondered.  
Castiel smiled unsteadily, almost unable to believe it. "Are you sure?" He asked.  
Dean groaned playfully. "Of course I'm sure. But still- like I said- well, a General doesn't go into battle without permission, really, does he?" Dean said, glancing at him as he fiddled with a paperweight. Castiel nodded.  
"Yes, I'm sorry Dean. I just- couldn't stand someone trying to kill the only people who've ever cared about me. Ill be better in the future. " Castiel replied.  
Dean shook his head.  
"What a pair we make." He whispered distantly and he ran his hands over the glass pyramid holding down inventory.  
Castiel frowned.  
"How so?" He asked.  
Dean shrugged.  
"Im terrified of people being taken from me, and your terrified of being left." He muttered.  
Castiel chewed his lip.  
"What exactly…..would you like to speak about it? Not that you have to, but I find it helps." Castiel shrugged.  
Dean's hands balled into fists, and he tensely set the paperweight back on the desk. His eyes didn't waver, as if that little groove in the wood was the focal point of the entire world.  
"My father….he was a sailor, ended up working for the Halaerian army. The ship he was assigned to..the Colonel Captain was crooked, selling information to Setebastca and planning on overthrowing the King. He found out, and managed to escape off the ship before the Captain could silence him. Made it his mission to row a god damn tiny buoy boat all the way back to Halaera to inform the King. And if there's one thing my father was, was stubborn. He finally got there, didn't even bother to stop for the night, ran through the town, past the guards, into the castle, burst into the King's council chambers. Soaking wet, unshaven, starving, covered in sand, and poured out everything to the entire council. They captured the crooked Captain and put him to death for treason. Then my father met my mother, the only person on earth more stubborn then him, who forced him to stay in bed and be nursed back to health for weeks. And they fell in love, like you can imagine. They had me, then Sam. B-but, the crooked captain had also had children. Azazel and Abbadon, insane and bent on revenge."  
His voice cracked momentarily, but he kept going.  
"When I was young, and Sam was just born…Azazel was only 10, I believe. He snuck into the castle itself and into Sam's nursery…..if my mother hadn't gotten up to check on him, he would have slit a newborn babies throat. My mother lunged at him, and they struggled, and he picked up the knife and stabbed her right in the stomach, so hard it pinned her to the wall. Realizing the guards must have heard the scuffle, he lit the room on fire and went out the window. Bobby, who was the head guard then, and my father got there first, and I followed soon after, having hear amy mother scream- and I wanted to come in, to help, to help mom, but dad shoved Sam into my arms and told me to run. So I did. But she was gone. My father….was different after that, obsessed with finding Azazel. When I was just turning 20, of age, he found him, and left to chase him across the world for months, longer then he'd ever been away. After months of him being gone, me and Sam went after him. We caught up with him, and faced Azazel together. I thought- finally, we'd get revenge, together , and then maybe we could try and be a family again…"  
Dean paused, shaking his head. "But something went wrong, and I got disarmed, and Azazel was lunging to run me through….and my dad got in the way. He died, to save me, right in my arms. I sent Sam home, he had just gotten betrothed, I could carry on after him. But- then I got a letter. Sam's beloved, a nice girl named Jess, an assistant to the state physician, was dead. Burned to death pinned to a wall. Azazel, or Abbadon. We didn't know about her back then. Sam….was heartbroken. So we both went after him, and thats kind of how we became this weird combination of pirate vigilante soldiers we are. We finally killed him. Only to find out- low and behold, he had a sister, even crazier and more bloodthirsty, determined to torment us. But she never followed us into Halaerian waters, so we went home. Everything was starting to get good again- the crew was going out and taking out bandits in the area, we were planning an expedition up north in search of this treasure…. I was talking to the head of the guards, I remember, when this guy got brought into the council chambers. A couple years younger then Sam. His name was Adam. Apparently, in those months he would leave to search for Azazel in Setebastca, my dad found some girl. Had another kid. Abbadon went and killed her, and he barely got away. He was so lost, and at first, I'm sorry to admit I resented him. Sam took to him, started bonding right away. Eventually I came around. He was a pretty cool kid. Didn't deserve to get involved in it. I ended up loving him as much as i loved Sam- he was my brother. He was strong and brave and kind and a hell of a good shot. I thought maybe I could have a family again. But then….we were out on a run after a low key slave ship, Adam was with us, and we got ambushed by five other ships. Out of nowhere. Led by her, and she killed some of my crew, and we got away. But we lost Adam…she, she took him, and disappeared. I think she sold him into slavery or something, from the ships she was sailing then. Or killed him. I don't know. I think not knowing is the worst. I failed him. And Im terrified I'm going to fail you too." Dean finished quietly, staring away the whole time.  
Castiel felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.  
"Im so sorry. But you won't. You won't fail me, you'll never lose me.You couldn't. Even if something happens, I would rip apart the world to get back to you." He breathed out in a rush.  
Dean finally pulled his gaze up to meet his with wide open eyes, looking a bit flabbergasted.  
"You really would, wouldn't you? Damn, Castiel. You amaze me. Not even a lifetime of that bastard hurting you could quench that fire in you, could it?" Dean huffed, with a small smile.  
Castiel shook his head.  
"He did. But your starting to bring it back to life. You should have seen me as a child. Its no wonder my siblings despised me, now that I think of it. I must have drove them crazy." He laughed, but it was bitter. He shook those thoughts away, stepping forward hesitantly. This whole time, everyone had been very specific to give Castiel a physically wide berth, kindly trying their best not to bump into him. Dean was careful not to roll near him in the bed. Castiel hated himself for it, but every time someone forgot and clapped him on the shoulder even barely, he clenched up. But it was time to move past that. Easier said then done.  
He hesitantly went to embrace the other man, and at first Dean was stiff with shock that Castiel was touching him without a problem, then returned it.  
It was nice, Castiel decided. Dean was warm and his arms were strong-but not restraining or crushing. They were…safe. Dean was gentle, but secure.  
They pulled away before long, and Dean gave a refreshed smile, the weight of everything they'd discussed fading from his eyes.  
Dean led him back outside, where Abbadon's vessel had faded into the blue horizon, and the crew was busy cleaning as best they could. They stopped when Dean let out a whistle, calling everyone to attention. He gently placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder. He didn't stiffen up, just blushed a bit at everyone looking at him.Dean smiled widely.  
"Meet your new Second Mate, Castiel… every good pirate's got to have some nickname, what do you guys think?" He pondered.  
"Bloodyteeth!"  
"Quencher!"  
"Fish!"  
Voices called out. Castiel's flush grew a deeper red each absurd name.  
"Sky Reacher!"  
"Ship Breaker!"  
"Chainbreaker!"  
Dean's eyes snapped to attention to the last one.  
"Oh, I like that. Chainbreaker? How does that sound, Cas?" He asked. everyone turned to him expectantly. He swallowed.  
"I love it."  
Cheers rose up, and Dean raised a hand to the sky.  
"Meet your new Second Mate, Castiel, The Chainbreaker!" he shouted with glee and an air of authority that sent shivers through his spine. Cheers echoed all around, and as he looked into gleeful faces with Dean's hand warm on his solder, he felt something stir inside him that took his breath away. It made him ache for the taste of the wind, the swell of the sea, the flare of the sun and the peaks of unassailable mountains just begging to be climbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, sad backstories. Im really taking canon and weaving it into my own little tablecloth aren't I? But I suppose thats the point of fanfiction anyway.  
> Oh, and yes, Adams going to be a big part of this.  
> And pay attention to Dean's story- there's gonna be a little plot twist in the next chapter your going to absolutely love! I know im excited. Im glad everyone likes this story so much!
> 
> Comments fuel my immortal writers soul :)


	10. The Heart(s) of Halaera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue blood still runs blue, even if it's being coughed up in a gutter, or otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sort of short chapter

 

                                                       

 

The next few days were some of the best of Castiel's life. He loved to climb up to the crows nest and feeling the wind whip around him and look out over the water, and the slaves they had freed were, for the most part, all unharmed and coping well with their ordeal. He had been up all night for two nights, though, comforting a little girl who had lost her mother and father and was afraid to go to sleep. They didn't have any stowaway's, which was one of Castiel's jobs to make sure of. Bobby was teaching him how to shoot. Alistair had denied him access to guns, even though the other weapons he taught Castiel how to use could be considered far more deadly. But he'd never protested. He wasn't a big fan of them anyway, but he'd learn how to do even the most vile thing if it meant keeping his friends safe. Bobby also taught him how to load and care for canon's, Kevin the Navigator had started showing him the alignment of the stars and how they were used for directions, Charlie had dragged him into the kitchen only to find he was an amazing chef already- Alistair ate only the best, after all. All his bruises were almost faded, and the scars on his back and chest were conventionally covered up by the lose cotton shirt and leather vest Dean had given him. He hated his scars, and always changed behind the screen whenever he had to, desperate to keep anyone from seeing them -even though Dean had probably already seen them the night he saved him.  
He was reading through one of the reports of how the boat was holding up while Dean pulled on a shirt and Sam sharped his dagger, when Garth burst through the doors, looking like the sky had turned to candy.  
"Land, Captain!" He exclaimed giddily. Dean popped up, scrambling over Sam to get out the cabin door. Castiel followed more calmly, cocking his head a bit. Not that landing wasn't a nice thing, but people always got so utterly worked up over it. One minute they said the sea was their true home, then the other they were practically throwing themselves off the port bow to get to land. People could be confusing sometimes. Another thing he noticed- seasickness. It seemed to be such a common thing, and everyone got it at first. Apparently, some people adjusted, and some never did. But he'd never felt it at all. He felt just as steady on the water as he did on land. Same thing in the sky- he could jump from rooftop from rooftop without a second thought while running away from Alistair's enemies. It didn't phase him one bit.  
True to Garth's word, a strip of land was steadily approaching, crowded with buildings and ports, most noticeable of all a spiraling castle, ascending into the blue sky. Green mountains rose up to frame the sprawling town, painting a bright picture of human goodness, almost. Like the city exuded an air of light and hope. Castiel felt a surge of fondness. This was his home country. He hadn't realized how much he missed it.  
Dean's eyes lit up in a way Castiel had never seen before, and he gave a sigh of happy relief. "Halaera."  
And in that moment, Castiel understood. Dean may love the sea, but home holds a wonder all it's own, even to the most wayward children.  
\---  
It took the blink of an eye, and Castiel set foot on his homeland again. He'd never been to the capitol, and it took his breath away. Streaming bright banners, towering buildings, people shouting from stalls selling god knows what, strange creatures being led around the streets, children laughing and weaving through crowds of people. Castiel took in every sight and sound, but soon became preoccupied with avoiding bumping into people, anxiety creeping into his mind, he edged closer to Dean. Suddenly, he wasn't surrounded by wonder, he was surrounded by the unknown. Being Alistiars slave, anyone who hurt him would had to answer to Alistair., and that was a protection in its own. Being someone's property came with certain connotations. Being free made him suddenly feel more vulnerable then ever. But the feeling of Dean wordlessly slipping his hand into Castiel's and giving it a reassuring squeeze shoved that all away. He felt grounded- focused. He wasn't just another person, alone and available to be snatched and locked up again by anyone. He was Castiel, Second mate to Dean Winchester. He squared his shoulder's and took a deep breath, lifting his chin and falling into step with Dean and Sam. And suddenly, he felt on top of the world. Just like he always did with the Winchesters.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
If the town was breathtaking, the citadel was downright heartstopping. It rose up like a dagger piercing the air, turrets and towers and grand sculpted sloping and gargoyles, all a bight sandy stone. The courtyards were littered with clumps of moss and grass, but it was charming. The guards saluted Dean and Sam, while Ellen, Bobby, Kevin headed off to the forgery to talk to someone about some thing's they needed for repairs. Dean trotted straight up the front stair's like it was the most natural thing in the world, and the guards pushed open the large wood doors. After being led through extravagant halls with murals and torches and tapestries, they entered a large room with long windows. A huge table with a map engraved and painted on it was surrounded by many well dressed men. Castiel immediately sidled to hide behind Dean. A road shouldered balding man with a gold circlet stood, and smiled. "Only you would keep a King waiting." He sighed fondly. Castiel's heart skipped, realizing they were in the presence of royalty and nobles. He stared at the floor in front of him, his nervous heart pounding against his ribcage. He expected Dean and Sam to apologize, to bow, something like that. He didn't expect Dean to roll his eyes and stride forward, and clap the King of Halaera on the arm.  
Sam laughed and headed forward, and the King pulled him into a hug. Cas felt like he was seriously missing something.  
"Well, old man, your lucky we got here at all." Dean snipped. The King frowned. "Trouble in paradise for my favorite grandson's?" He smirked.  
Castiel felt understanding snap his reeling mind into focus.  
"Your Princes?" He blurted out in shock, drawing all eyes in the room to him.


	11. A Whole New Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So lead me back  
> Turn south from that place  
> And close my eyes to my recent disgrace  
> Cause you know my call  
> And we'll share my all  
> And our children come, they will hear me roar  
> So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
> Cause oh they gave me such a fright  
> But I will hold as long as you like  
> Just promise me that we'll be alright  
> \- Ghosts That We Knew, Mumford & Sons

 

                                                 

There was an awkward silence, before Sam turned to his brother with a very exasperated expression on his face. "  
"You didn't tell him? After all this time?" He exclaimed. Dean gestured wildly. "I thought I did!" He replied snippily, before turning to Castiel.  
"Im really sorry, I thought I had. Cas, meet our mother's father, Samuel Cambell, High King of Halaera." He introduced, gesturing to the balding man. Samuel smiled.  
"And who is this, pray tell?" He asked, striding forward and offering a hand for Castiel to shake. He stared at it for a moment, before hesitantly shaking it and giving the king a sort of smile and bow. He felt a bit dizzy.  
"My name is Castiel, you liege. Im no one, really, Im very sorry for being disruptive-" He began to apologize, but Sam cut him off.  
"He most certainly isn't no one. Cas, give yourself some credit, you've saved our lives twice, and saved Dean, Jo, and Charlie from being sold into slavery." He interjected. Castiel blushed deeply. The King's eyes widened. Dean strode forward, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Grandfather, id like you to meet my new Second Mate. We'll tell you all about it at diner, but right now we need to sort out a few things." He acknowledged. Samuel nodded.  
"Of course. Your room's are ready as always, and ill have one set up for Castiel." He replied. Dean glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a knowing glance, but also a bit scared, like a man about to gamble something big.  
"That won't be necessary." He announced. Sam smirked. Castiel's eyes widened- but he didn't protest. Samuel nodded and turned back to his council, and Dean was leading him back out the door's.  
\------------------------------------------  
"So sorry about that. I thought Dean had told you." Sam shot a glare at his brother. Castiel shook his head.  
"Its alright- I- Im just surprised." He stammered.  
Dean patted him on the shoulder.  
"This doesn't mean to treat us any differently. We are still the same as we have always been. A couple of bleeding hearts running around pretending to be badass." Dean grumbled. Castiel couldn't help but smile.  
"Don't look now, but I believe its working." He replied. This earned a laugh from Sam., who then apologized as he left to go oversee the beginnings of repairs, and the rehabilitation of the free'd slaves.  
Dean led him up through extravagant corridors, which were subtle and warm, unlike the Mazterab had been.  
"So, your mother was the princess?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded.  
"Yeah. She used used to say she fell in love with my father the minute he burst through that door, covered in dirt and about to fall off his feet." He grinned nostalgically.  
Castiel nodded. "My mother fell into my fathers life. Quit literally. He found her stealing apples from his orchard, and she fell right on top of him and broke his wrist." He chuckled halfheartedly.  
Dean laughed. "Sounds like a match made in Heaven."  
Then, suddenly, Dean straightened up, as if struck by something..  
"It never even occurred to me, Cas, you have family out there somewhere! Where did they live, I'm sure we could find them-" He clamored, but Castiel cut him off.  
Dean immediately fell silent, noticing his clenched jaw and hard eyes, that were very unlike Castiel.  
"No. Don't. Even if there still alive, they don't want me anyway." He said coldly, looking away. Dean pursed his lips.  
"C'mon Cas, I know…I know you think you don't deserve a lot of things, but I'm sure your own family isn't going to hate you just because you suffered-" He tried to approach the other man, but Cas whirled around and stamped his foot.  
"No, Dean! You don't- there the ones who sold me into slavery in the first place! They never loved me, and they sure as hell won't now!" He exclaimed. Dean was speechless.  
Castiel's tension faded away, and he leaned against the wall, shaking. He rested his head agains the stone, closing his eyes.  
"No one ever loved me. Until you came along, you and Sam and them, I believed that no one ever would. Im sorry that I ran off without your orders, Im sorry I was so reckless, but…" He felt tears well up in his eyes.  
"I can't lose you. I can't- Ill die. I can't finally be loved and then risk that being taken away, even one bit." He finished brokenly. Dean was silent as he turned Castiel around, and pulled him into an embrace that warmed Castiel from his head to toes.  
"I understand." He breathed.

 

\--  
Dean's chambers were surprisingly modest for a Pirate/Prince/Saint, or whatever the hell he was. Castiel didn't even care for labels anymore. And yet, there was one very big bed, the sight of which sent unwelcome butterflies to Castiel's stomach.  
Dean flounced onto it and smiled. "You'll take left, ill take right?" He asked, as casual as day. Which this was. Just friends. No connotations at all.  
Castiel nodded, looking around.  
"We'll be here for a few weeks at most, till the boats fixed up, and then there's some rumors of a beast kidnapping toddlers in the western isles I'd thought we'd go check out. There's cloths in the closet that should fit you, lets get cleaned up for dinner. You haven't lived till you've had the cooks roasted duck, my friend." He said enthusiastically.  
\-------------------------------  
The King's dining chambers were large, and the table was long, even if only 6 people were sitting at it. Sam and Dean sat on either side of Samual, who was seated at the head of the table. Ellen and Bobby sat on the side with Sam , and Cas next to Dean.  
"So, from what I'm hearing, the great Dean Winchester got stuck in a slave's chains, and our friend Cas here saved all of you? And then again?" He asked, grinning at Castiel. Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam nodded.  
"And if that wash't enough, he took out half of Abbadon's crew on his own, then threw her overboard." He informed the King, who raised an eyebrow.  
"You threw on of the most notorious criminals in the known lands overboard?" He asked incredulously. Castiel blushed.  
Bobby burst out laughing. The King shook his head, his balding head gleamed in the candlelight.  
"If only we had more men like my grandsons and you, this battle against slavery would be won in a day. But alas, we ca't even locate their strongholds. Were running blind." He sighed, gesturing the map hung up on the opposite wall, with tack of bright metal in variuos places. Dean was saying something, but Castiel was too preoccupied studying the map. He stood, and strode over to it.The pale paper of the map was stark against the wood paneling.There was a little bin of the tacks hanging next to it, so he picked them up and started placing them in.  
"What are those?" Samuel, who had come to stand next to him asked. Castiel jumped, like he'd been waken from a trance.  
"Oh- I'm sorry,I just-" he stammered realizing how rude his actions had been. The King waved him off. "Yes yes, but what are you doing here?" He asked curiously.  
Castiel swallowed, and turned to the map. Everyone was looking at him, but he squared his shoulders. He could do this.  
"Being Alistair's slave, I was at his side at all times almost. And he spent most of his time buying and selling slaves and attending to such business. The system they run depends on two things- a mixture of animosity and sponsorship, secret hideouts and friends in high places. Ive been to almost every main base, and I know a lot of the people that he's making deals with under the table." He shrugged.  
The King was looking at him like he had just turned lead to gold.  
"Castiel, this is…..would you be willing to oversee the operations for our fight against slavery? You know so much, with your knowledge and Dean's crew- this could change everything. Id have to knight you, of course, for something like that." He added.  
Castiel stared at him, then glanced at Dean, who was nodding vigorously.  
Him? Knighted? Planning out ways to free slaves and defeat Alistair's network. Him, go from being a lowly slave to being knighted by the King of Halaera, and fight alongside its prince? This went beyond anything he could have imagined. He was whisked back momentarily to those bluffs over his father's land, the wind in his hair, and everything had looked so small in that moment, and yet the world looked infinite.  
"Id be honored."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late  
> comments inspire me to get off my lazy butt and write so keep them coming


	12. Fates Design

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a tiny teaser chapter because I said so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling my way through the darkness  
> Guided by a beating heart  
> I can't tell where the journey will end  
> But I know where to start
> 
> They tell me I'm too young to understand  
> They say I'm caught up in a dream  
> Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes  
> Well that's fine by me  
> \- Avicii, 'Wake Me Up'

                                                     

Figures huddle in the dark, cramming themselves against he damp dirty stone walls, their shackles jangling. A large man dragged a smaller boy by his bound wrists through the door into the large dank cavern, swinging the torch to intimidate the people huddled at his feet in case they got any ideas. Satisfied as they flinched away, he tossed the boy to the muddy ground, then turned and left. The sound of the door being slammed and locked resonated out, causing some young children to start crying. Mutters rolled through the crowd of captive people, regarding the battered shaking boy. But none rose to help him. A moment passed, and from the back of the room a figure rose, picking his way to were the boy was collapsed on the ground. He crouched down, and offered a silent hand. The boy looked up apprehensively, before accepting the hand and struggling to his feet. The figure led him away, past the crowd to the farthest corner of the cavern, to a pile of collapsed rock. A few slates of broken boards and greasy rags tucked amongst the rubble formed a tiny little shelter. The figure pulled back the sheeting and let the boy crawl inside the makeshift hut. Small candles made of dirty looking wax lit it dimly, and in the light revealed the figure to be a young man his age, with a strong jaw and kind eyes. The other boy had wide eyes and a small chin of sorts, and was covered in blood.  
"Here, have something to eat. Don't worry, none of the others come here, their afraid the rubble will collapse more and crush whosever in here." He assured him, pulling some dry bread from a little cove and offering it. The boy hesitantly took some, nibbling it. He looked up fearfully.  
"And will it?" He asked.  
His savior grinned. "It could any minute, yeah." He deadpanned.  
The other boy's eyes widened. "But what if it does, won't we die?" He exclaimed.  
"So what? Life is full of danger. You could die any minute of a thousand reasons. Better to live like your already expecting your death then live in constant fear of it. Not that caution isn't all well and nice, but in our situation, its undesirable. My brothers taught me that. Whats your name?" He asked.  
"Samandriel." The other boy replied.  
"Nice to meet you Samandriel, Im Adam." The boy stuck out his hand.  
Trapped gods knows were, under a pile of debris, in the light of stolen candles, two boys shook hands. The gesture lasted longer then necessary, as if both were clinging to the warmth.  
And hundreds of miles away, a young man with scars on his back and hope in his eyes knelt before a King, a pirate prince and his crew looked on with happiness pouring from their lips, and none of them were aware that in that moment, the entire world would shift. Fate would light itself on fire, and nothing would ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes yes im sorry this is so tiny but the next chapter will be soon, I just wanted to throw in a little intermissive teaser thing here for the sake of progress


	13. The Starless Sky (Give It Back It's Light)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So nigh is grandeur to our dust,  
> So near is God to man,  
> When Duty whispers low, 'Thou must,'  
> The youth whispers, 'I can.”
> 
>  
> 
> ― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Emerson: Poems

 

                                                           

The wind teased through black hair; pale strong callused hands gripped the balcony railing. Dean's balcony jutting out over the courtyards from his room were much different from the one Castiel had tried to throw himself from, what seemed a lifetime ago. It was curved outward, like a semicircle. The Mazterab had been based off squares and rectangles in its design. For another thing, although he could see the town rolling out and the sea before him from here, he wasn't looking down. Castiel was gazing upwards, towards the stars, with blue eyes that shined almost as bright.  
The Knighting ceremony had been nerve-racking and exhilarating, followed by a extravagant feast. Dean showed he could eat an entire hen in minutes, Charlie could burp the lyrics of a popular bards song, and most surprising of all, Joe could dance like a siren form the east. The King was red faced and merry, unlike the only other King he had ever seen, Malacki, King of Setabasca, who was bitter and displeased at everything, even at Alistair's most charming words. His favorite part of the night by far, had been Dean trying to teach him to dance. The very thought of it sent heat to his face, despite the cool breeze. There bodies pressed together, Dean's heart against his, Dean whispered instructions in his ear and they spun and swayed.  
In the present, Castiel bowed his head, screwing shut his eyes and hunching his shoulders.  
And here he was, having rushed an apology near the end of the song and run away, to hide out here on the balcony, trying to fight off arousal. Luckily, years being nothing but a mouth to Alistair gave Castiel very good control. Ironic, how much Castiel tried to rationalize his burdening emotions by distracting himself with the simplistic barbarity of his past. Surely, knowing one thing without a doubt, such as pain apron disobedience, is better then being so conflicted by a range of emotions and unknowable things, that Castiel feels like his chest is about to burst?  
No.  
Those were the thoughts of a slave. Something he was not, and would never be again.  
His knuckles turned white as his grip on the railing tightened. His eyes snapped open, and he threw up his head to stare out into the open air, daring something to deny him.  
He was met with only the sounds of a bustling city, and he relaxed into his newfound confidence. He could do this. He would figure this out.  
So, he cared about Dean. A lot. More then any of the others. Well, maybe not more. Just differently.  
And tonight had determined- it went past friendship.  
Castiel had never felt truly aroused. His whole life, he had only felt half stirred occasionally from superficial stimulation, and he always shove fit away. It made him feel sick.  
But this- this was different. It was beyond just the sexual. This was heart hammering, palm sweating, utterly breathlessness.  
He sighed. No point trying to deny what he already knew.  
Castiel was falling in love with Dean Winchester.  
The next part was figuring out what the hell to do about it.  
\--------------------  
Dean threw open the door, yawning as he stretch this arms over his head.  
"Man, that was one good grubbing. Why did yo-" He started, but froze. He went a little pale. Castiel was standing out on the balcony, leaning over the railing. The scene was all to similar.  
"Cas?" He said slowly, coming to stand by the door.  
The former slave whirled around in surprise, and smiled largely at the sight of Dean. "Sorry. Didn't hear you."  
Dean glanced out over the balcony. His lips were drawn tight, and his eyes were scared and wary.  
"What are you doing out here?" He as quietly.  
Castiel frowned in confusion before his eyes lit up in understanding.  
"Oh! NO! I wasn't- I just wanted some air, and to see the stars. I like stars. I promise, I wasn't." Castiel stammered, stepping closer to Dean. Dean gulped and relaxed a little.  
"Im sorry for scaring you." Castiel whispered. Dean just nodded.  
"Its alright. Why' d you run off all the sudden? I can understand if it got overwhelming. This is all so new. Everything's going so fast." Dean sighed. Castiel shook his head.  
"No, I'm alright now, I'm ready. Im not a slave, Dean. Im not a utensil, an asset, a tool, a canvas, a passtime-" Castiel's voice cracked a little. "Im not a pet. Im doing this because I want to. Because I deserve to. Because its the right thing to do, and because I know nobody is going to hurt me or lock me away if I don't." He declared. Dean smiled, and pulled him into a hug. At first Castiel stiffened, but then quickly relaxed.  
Yeah, Cas was pretty screwed.  
But in a good way.  
\----  
The next few days were an exciting blur, with maps and plans and strategy and arrests of corrupt royals.  
One of those such occasions was a duke from the north, working with Alistair for the past year as he visited the Capitol. Castiel had stood in on their meetings many a time. He had always hated the Duke, he had made Alistair amuse him by beating Cas in front of him. But only Alistair ever got to touch him.  
And yet, when he was done, and Cas was lying in agony on the cold floor, the Duke would stand over him and laugh.  
And now it was Castiel standing over him as he was thrown to the courtroom floor in chains.  
"You have been found guilty, Jasnot. We have a witness to your crimes, and testimony from your' servants' at your estate and found the hidden seller where you keep them locked up, along with others your harboring. You will be executed for these grievances within the week." The King announced, glaring down at the Duke like he was dirt.  
"Sire, If I may?" Castiel cut in suddenly. All eyes turned to him. Samuel nodded. Castiel clasped his hands behind his back and approached the greasy cowering man on the floor slowly, shoulders straight and chin high.  
He walked with the weight of his freedom on his mind, staring down at the Duke with lips drawn tight and hard eyes.  
He cocked his head a bit as he considered the man at his feet.  
"Do not kill him." He said calmly. Jasnot's eyes widened, as did many else in the court. The Duke opened his mouth, as if to thank him for mercy, but Castiel leaned down closely before he could say a thing.  
"No, do not give him that mercy. Lock him up. Imprison him somewhere he will never see daylight again. Let him taste the agony of life in chains he has befallen so many others." He sneered. The Duke paled.  
The King nodded appraisingly.  
"Guards, do as the Chainbreaker says." He announced. Jasnot was dragged away. Castiel stood straight, clenched his jaw to keep his lips from trembling and took a deep breath.

Later, Dean would drink a toast to him.  
"Way to feed that dick his balls, my friend." He laughed. The rest of the dinner table laughed as well- except Castiel.  
Dean realized something was amiss, and stilled. "Are you alright."  
All eyes on him.  
He averted his eyes to the floor.  
"What I did- am I no better then him? Do we win by giving mercy to the ungrateful, the unforgiven for the sake of morality, or do we stoop to their level? Is there no other way? What I did saved him from death, yes, but instead I became like Alistair, locking someone up when they do something wrong." He admitted, tears welling up in his eyes.  
There was silence, before Dean cut it with the knife that proved to be his voice, low and wary.  
"He deserved it." He said, as if trying to negate the tension in the room with a simple fact. Castiel's hands bunched in the tablecloth, and he squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the tears. He shouldn't be crying! Crying showed weakness-weakness only made Alistair excited.  
But he wasn't with Alistair anymore. He was at a glamourous dinner table, with Kings and Princes and Pirates and all good people! Unlike him! He wasn't good! He didn't deserve to be here, to sit among them, to be their equal! He was nothing, he was dirt in the veracious wind, he wished Dean had never saved him, he should leave, he should run, hide, cry, die, hurt, he should be hurting, he wanted to hurt, he needed someone to hurt him, he deserved it, how had he ever convinced these amazing people he was worthy to even speak to them? He suddenly missed Alistair, he missed his cot, he missed the dungeon, the pain- no, no, no…he just missed knowing exactly what he was, no confusion, no question! He was a slave, nothing, nothing, nothing-  
"Castiel! Stop!" Ellen shouted.  
Castiel's head whipped up, tears escaping down his cheeks, and he wasn't the only one. Everyone, even the King, was pale and still, eyes full of tears, pity, shock, fear, concern.  
It was then Castiel realized with horror he'd been talking aloud the whole time.

"I- i didn't mean to, I'm sorry-" He babbled, but a bloodless faced Dean cut him off.  
"Its alright. I understand. You have every right to feel the way you do- but that doesn't mean your right! Your good, Castiel, good to a fault. So good you can't even see it. Your blind to your own glory. But ill spend the rest of my life cutting away that blindfold, no matter what it takes. But right here, right now, you look at me, and you listen!" His voice cracked a little, but his eyes were ablaze.  
"You never deserved it. You deserve your freedom, your life, you fought for ours, you fought for your own. Your a fighter, Cas! And that doesn't mean your a killer, it means your passionate, your loyal, your righteous. You are selfless, to the point were even a tiny bit of well deserved self indulgence makes you hate yourself! And that guy deserved a lot more then you gave him, trust me, you did the right thing! Your nothing like Alistair! Did Alistair fret and hate himself every time he locked you away? No! Because he was heartless, and because you never deserved to be locked away in the first place, but that guy does! And you know it! And even if you don't trust yourself- trust me." Dean practically shouted in desperation, hands waving as he continued.  
"You have every reason to be afraid of this freedom, of the confusion free will gives you. Trust me, I know, My father- being given orders is easy! Its simple, fulfill a task, a set purpose, no doubt, no confusion, straight and narrow and easy. But that's not what life is, Castiel! Life is questions, life is the heart, life is a jumble of crossroads and mistakes and emotions! Life is what you want to do and sometimes what you have to do! And that is worth more then mindless devotion any day, because int he end, you are you. We are made of dirt and fire and flowers and the blood of our ancestors, of stardust and light, of dark desire, doubt and innocent love! That is what humanity is! I know the open world looks scary and huge, like your going to get lost, but your not losing yourself, Castiel! Your finding yourself and we are finding each other! And besides, we do have a purpose! And that is to help people, to fight for the freedom and safety of good people wherever we go! This is a war- a war against the dark, and the light is winning, as long as we keep going, as long as we stay together, we are good, and we are home." Dean finished breathlessly, having gone from shouting to a whisper.  
There was a reverent silence to his words, and Castiel felt his roiling thoughts and emotions calm as everything clicked back in place. He wiped his tears, and he stared at the table a moment before looking up to meet everyone's eyes with a convicted, light filled gaze once more.  
"Im sorry. I know. I- I will. I will fight. Till my last breath, as long as my blood runs red and the seas run blue, I will fight next to you. Teeth and claw, mind and heart. We are on the edge of grace, specks of dust on the edge of the sky- but if I know anything about the theories of those great men all those worn out books told me about, is that together, dust makes up the very stars. And together, I think we will shine brighter then anything this wide world has ever seen." He declared, with a voice as strong as the arc of the mountains.  
Dean stood and placed a hand over his heart, the salute of Halarea. His smile lit up the room.  
"For the people." He announced. Sam stood the same.  
"For the mind."  
Charlie giggled and stood, dragging Joe with her.  
"For the soul!"  
"For the sea."  
Ellen stood, clapping Joe on the shoulder.  
"For family."  
The King stood, robes billowing behind him.  
"For Halaera, and every good individual outside." He bellowed.  
Bobby stood.  
"For friends."  
Kevin stood next.  
"For the constellations, may they lead us right."  
At last, everyone looked to Castiel.  
He stood slowly.  
"For freedom. No, even better- for love." he said. There was a huzzah, and amidst the excitement, Castiel's eyes found Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT YEAH  
> sorry it took so long  
> finals and being sick all at once, blargh  
> ANNOUNCEMENT: IF THAT MIDSEASON FINALE KILLED YOU AS IT DID ME GO READ MY "EYES LIKE LIGHTNING(LIPS LIKE STARS)" IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER I HOPE  
> ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO XIMENA


	14. The Mighty Stumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early in the morning, in the morning, I will call for you  
> Even though the words aren’t clear,  
> And even if my voice seems cruel  
> Early in the morning, in the morning, red and almost true  
> \- Early in the Morning, James Vincent McMorrow.

                                                            

 

"P-please! I'm sorry, I was just playing-" A voice screamed out, tiny and panicked.  
Adam's head whirled around, and Samandriel tensed.  
They were sitting next to the rubble eating, away from the others, but in a moment Adam was on his feet and pushing his way through the crowd of slaves that were trying to scuttle away from the ruckus. Cursing, Samandriel followed. A small circle had formed in the middle near the front of the cavern, and the large menacing guard was dragging a small boy by his neck.  
"Teach you and the rest of you worthless rats not to throw rocks at the likes of me!" He bellowed, face red with anger. Samandriel felt his stomach clench.  
"I-I meant to t-throw it at the wall, I'm sorry, i was just playing!" The boy screeched, wriggling and crying outs he was thrown to the dirt. The man didn't seem to care, he ripped something from his belt and a black whip snapped out into the air menacingly. Everyone flinched back, even Adam. The boy cowered on the ground, trying to cover his face the best he could. He couldn't have been more then 6 years of age.  
"Hey! Fatass!" A voice rang out, from none other then Adam. He had stepped into the circle, shoulders back to make himself look bigger then he was-like a threat.  
A lot more threatening then a small boy.  
The guard whirled around, even more livid as his eyes locked on Adam. Samandriel felt like all the air was being sucked out of his lungs.  
"What, not man enough to whip a guy at least half your size? You picked the wrong career, buddy," Adam sneered.  
The guard was red inn the face, and raised the whip. Adam anticipated this it seemed, and turned, covering his face with his arm and crouching away a little. With a crack, the whip tore ope his shirt and blood blossomed from a gash in his side. Adam didn't even move to get out of its way. The whip came down over and over, and eventually he started screaming. Ever cry of agony ground into Samandriel's bones, till he could see the scene clearly even with closed eyes.  
Clenched eyelids flew open, and something inside him snapped. The scene in front of him would burn itself into his mind forever, framed in darkness, dirt and blood.  
"Stop! No one's going to want to buy such good merchandise thats been rendered useless, let him up!" He shouted, mind running smoothly and frantically at the same time, like clockwork being smashed to bits by the need for speed. The guard froze, considering his words before shooting them all a glare and tucking away his whip. He drew his lips into a thin line and kicked Adam one more time, before the door slammed behind him.  
Not a word was spoken. Adam was shaking, blood oozing out of dozens of lashes across his body, his shirt and pants torn to shreds. Samadriel's stomach roiled, and he crept forward, carefully slinging Adam's arm one this shoulder and struggling to drag him away. What seemed like hours of exertion and pained whimpers later, he was laying the wounded boy down in their little rubbled hut. Oh God, blood was everywhere.  
Samandriel was about to throw up, but he took a deep breath attempting to steel his nerves. Now wasn't the time for that. Adam needed him. He ripped the remnants of Adam's shirt off him, tearing the rest of the salvageable material into strips and tossing the rest. He soaked the strips in a little puddle of rainwater. Returning to Adam's side, he began to bandage the lashes best he could, focusing on the deeper ones.  
It was going to be a long night.  
But even in the dark of this despair filled prison, Adam's light shone out from behind the blood and dirt and warmed Samandriel from the inside out.  
Now he just had to make sure that it didn't get extinguished.  
\--

 

Life continued. The Impala's repairs were almost done, in a week they should be out on the high seas again.  
Castiel was discussing battle strategies to raid a large compound near the Northern Isles with Steward Jimmy, when a knave entered the chambers, offering a quick bow to them both. Castiel hated when they bowed, it made him feel silly.  
"Yes, Arik?" He asked. The knave blushed-Castiel had made it his mission to memorize the names of the staff and anyone else in the castle.  
"Sir Castiel, there is a group of people begging for an audience. They say it's urgent." He informed him dutifully. Castiel frowned thoughtfully.  
"The King is in meetings all day, I could get Dean" He began, but the knave cut him off.  
"You misunderstand, Sir. They are asking for the Chainbreaker in particular."  
Castiel nodded. He'd become a bit famous these last weeks- but he supposed a flood of freed slaves reentering civilization where bound to spread the word of the people who freed them. He waved his hand for Jimmy to leave and bid him farewell, turning to organize all the papers strewn about across the council map desk.  
The doors opened behind him, and he heard the tell tale sounds of people shuffling forward nervously and falling to their knees. He'd done it a thousand times before.  
The papers where being particularly difficult to gather.  
"Sorry, one moment. What are your names, and what brings you here?" He called back.  
"It's alright, Sir. My name is Michael Novak. These are my siblings, Anna, Naomi, Gabriel, and Balthazar. We are here about a kidnapping." A familiar voice, that haunted his dreams replied from behind him.  
His entire body went rigid, paper in his hands cumbering in a death grip.  
It couldn't be.

But it was.  
He stood there, frozen, mind reeling. Why where they here? Did they know it was him- from the introduction, it seemed not. Would they recognize him if he turned around?  
Maybe, maybe not. If they did, what would they do? Yell, leave, beg his forgiveness? Explain? Explain why they did it? No, he- he couldn't breath. He couldn't turn around, he couldn't face them. He didn't know what to do.  
He supposed he had to carry on with his job.  
He took a deep breath, steeling himself and set down the crumpled papers, hands gripping the edge of the table. White knuckles, tendons straining.  
"A kidnapping, you say? Of who?" His voice said, steady and a tad bit cold. But that was a given.  
"O-our younger brother." Michael replied. Something twinged in Castiel's gut.  
"Age?"  
"17 years young, Sir." Came the answer.  
Castiel closed his eyes. Father must have remarried. Good for him.  
"Name? When was he taken?" Castiel gritted out.  
"A few weeks ago Sir. Samandriel, his name was- is, Samandriel. He was taken by slavers, from the city outside our farm."  
Castiel felt like his stomach was trying to claw it's way out of his throat.  
"Really? Taken? Or did you just sell him for a quick buck and now people are asking questions? It wouldn't be the first time." He spat out, his voice uncharacteristically harsh.  
He could almost feel Michaels hackles raise, it was a familiar sensation. He felt a sudden wave of nostalgia for all the reckless things he used to do, and the stern talking-to Michael would give.  
He pushed that feeling away.  
"Excuse me, your goodness, but that is baseless and uncalled for! I would never do such a thing, especially to my youngest sibling!" Michael exclaimed. He heard a cough from what must have been Naomi's direction. He could almost imagine the glare he shot her.  
Castiel was silent.  
When he spoke, his voice was low and smooth, with an edge of warning.  
"Is it really? Your hiding something from me, Mr. Novak. I've spent almost my whole life learning to break into hidden places, steal away the most treasured guilts, the darkest secrets. I've watched men die for white lies at the hands of a man who doesn't have an honest bone in his retched body. I know secrets. I know lies. And you seem very keen to shield a truth from the air of this room. I will not tolerate liars. If you want my help, your going to have to tell me. Your going to have to tell everyone in this room whatever I want to know. Do you understand?" He stated. He felt like throwing up.  
There was a silence, as if Michael was gulping. Tension was thick in the very air.  
"Yes, Sir." He responded, in a resigned tone, as if dreading exactly what he knew would come to light.  
Castiel's fingers tightened on the edge of the tabletop.  
"Good. Now, tell me, are these all your siblings here?" He asked.  
"No.I have ten siblings, Sir. seven brothers, one is dead, one ran away Samandriel is captured as I said, two are here and the rest have followed my second eldest brother into….a life of crime, you might say. They are long gone. All my sisters are here." Michael recited.  
Castiel frowned. "Dead? What was his name?"  
"Uriel. He went mad, tried to murder our father. It was unfortunate." Michael sighed.  
Castiel pursed his lips. Part of him was a little smug, Uriel had always been so cruel to him and condescending. But the other part was saddened- he was his brother, after all. At least by blood.  
"Ten." Castiel mused.  
Michael frowned. "Excuse me?"  
Castiel ground his teeth, still staring at the wall.  
"And the one that ran away?" Castiel asked.  
There was a split second of silence, of hesitation.  
"His name was Castiel. He ran away after our mother died." Michael replied. These words were slower, easier, as if rehearsed. Castiel bit back his anger.  
"Is that so? How old was he?"  
"Thirteen."  
"How strange. Such a young heart, having lost its mother, you'd think it would cling to the rest of its family like a barnacle." Castiel said softly, words tainted bitter on his tongue.  
There was some shuffling.  
"Who can guess the mind of a young boy, I suppose." Michael replied. Castiel could here the wariness in his voice, and something else he couldn't place.  
"He who has also been young boy, faced with difficulty. And I say, in my experience, your story there seems rather..unlikely. Are you completely sure? Illg I've you one more choice. I will know if your lying. Tell me now, what happened to your brother." Castiel demanded.  
There was silence.  
Finally, broken by a resigned, devastated sigh.  
"I sold him."  
A few voices gasped in horror.  
"Michael! you- You sold Cassie! H-how, why- How the fucking hell could you do that? When? You've been lying to us this whole damn time?" The angry shocked voice of Gabriel exclaimed. Castiel felt his heart skip a beat- not all his siblings had sold him. Anna, Gab, Balthy, they hadn't even been there.  
But then the cold anger retook him.  
They had let him.  
They had all abandoned him.  
Anna must have been furiously trying to punch Michael from the sound of it, Rapheal must be holding her back.  
Castiel still didn't turn around.  
"There we go. The truth at last. You sold your brother for some cash and never looked back, and now you except me to help you help you get one brother, when you gave up the other brother without a thought and forgot all about him?" Castiel scoffed.  
Michael's defeated demeanor snapped.  
"I did not!" He cried.  
Castiel froze.  
"I never did! I never forgot! I never forgave myself! I went back the next day, but he was gone! I begged that man to tell me where he'd gone! I was willing to give myself up to get him back, I never forgot about him! Ive had my whole life since then, everyday having to look in the mirror!" He was practically shouting, voice uncontrolled and emotional, unlike and Michael he had known. The room was shocked into silence.  
"And do you know what I saw! Oh, he had mother's eyes and hair, but everyone always said he had fathers face! My face! I look in the mirror and I see him, screaming for me! And I hate myself! I alway have! I hate myself for letting Lucifer talk me into it, letting those men blackmail me! Letting Met and Uriel and Luke and Raphael manipulate me into doing the most horrible thing thinkable! I trusted them, and they ended up stealing the money and using it to start there own brothel in some damned city in Setabasca! I trusted them- and he trusted me! Castiel trusted me! And I gave him up to whoever knows who! He's probably dead by now, and I wake up every morning thinking that! But I did not sell Samandriel- I would never repeat that sin, that mistake! On my life! What I did was wrong, but gods be damned, please, punish me! It's all my damned fault, punish me, not Samandriel!" His voice faded into desperate begging.  
Castiel couldn't breath, he was struggling to maintain his composure, this couldn't be, this was the stuff of dreams-  
Another voice rose up.  
"Stop! it wasn't just your fault, Mike, I am to blame as well! They trickes me as much as you, I could have stopped you! I knew it was wrong! But I let you do it, I didn't say a word! I wanted to- I- I watched them take him in, away, and I could have turned around, could have grabbed him back! I looked him in the eye, he was so afraid, and I did nothing! Nothing! I am as much to blame as you. We share this pain." Naomi's choked words cut though Castiel like daggers icy hot with confusion and emotions he couldn't understand. He just stood their, in shock.  
"Nonsense! Us leaving started the damn thing! If we hadn't run off, Luke wouldn't have been able to get a leg up! We abandoned Castiel, we abandoned all of you, its our blame as feel! We failed him!" Anna retorted.  
"Im the one who got the idea to leave in the first place-" Gabriel was cut off by Balthazar.  
"If I hadn't-"  
"Stop!" Castiel heard his own voice cry out.  
Silence reined.  
All eyes looked to him in shock.  
Castiel had turned around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wait for it  
> wait for it  
> wait foR I T


	15. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not a fearless man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And in the forest I make my home  
> Lay down my heart on an ancient stone  
> And if my heart should somehow stop  
> I’ll hang on to the hope  
> That you’re not too late  
> That you’re not too late"  
> \- James Vincent McMorrow, 'If My Heart Should Somehow Stop'
> 
> \---------  
> also apologize in advance because this is unbeta'd, although I ran through it 6 times.  
> I try, I really do.

                                                       

It seemed like an eternity they stared at each other. Castiel had seen the recognition enter their tear filled eyes instantaneously. But still, no one moved. As if they were trying to believe this was really happening, wrap their head around the connotations of it.  
Finally, Michael, hot tears streaming down his face from eyes full of relief, hope, fear, and god knows what, reach out a hand towards him.  
"Castiel?"  
Cas immediately stumbled back, raising a shaking arm. As if to fend off a strike. His eyes were guarded, and full of fire.  
"Don't you dare. Don't ever touch me. Don't even come near me. I'll help you find Samandriel. You'll stay in the castle, be treated well. But don't you ever think you have the right to fucking come near me, ever again." He snarled. Michael stepped away. They all nodded mutely, averted their eyes. Like scolded children.  
Castiel straightened his shirt, regaining his composure.  
"Arik!" He called. The knaves head immediately popped his head in between the doors, as if he'd been listening through the door.  
"Yes, Sir Castiel?" he called.  
"Give these people chambers in the lower west corridor, and anything they may need. Within reason." He commanded. Arik smiled and opened the door wider, gesturing for them to follow him. With a few glances back at Castiel, they left. The Chainbreaker braced himself on the table, shaking.  
\--------  
Wanting to eat lunch with his friend before he continued overseeing the Impala's repairs, Dean returned to the castle.  
Only to find that Castiel had locked himself in their room, and some of the staff and councilmen were distraught with confusion and worry. They had coalesced into a mass of bubbling whispers a ways down the hall from his door. He strode into the crowd, calling all attention to himself.  
"I demand to know what's going on." He announced. The men and woman stared at each other, and from their faces they seemed just as in the dark as him. Until a hesitant hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see a familiar guard, bright hazel eyes and a puppy dog face. He saw him around the castle often.  
"Yes, er, Aaron, that's your name right? What is it?" He inquired.  
The boy blushed a little. "Ah, it's, um, Arik, Sire. And, Sir Castiel had some visitors. They upset him very much." He said timidly.  
Dean frowned. The idea of whoever might upset Cas so much to lead to this alarmed him.  
"Who?" He demanded.  
Arik gulped.  
"I…I know I should not have, Sire, But I was curious, and I listened at the door….they were his siblings. The ones that sold him, I believe. It was very…emotional, and Sir Castiel had me give them chambers and for before he stormed all the way here and hasn't come out since." Arik explained in a hurry.  
Dean's stomach dropped to the pit of his stomach. THe others muttered among themselves.  
He turned back to them all.  
"Your dismissed. Do not disturb this area of the castle without good reason." He commanded. They disbanded, slurping off into the shadows like kicked puppies. Dean could care less about gossip-hounds.  
Arik bade him goodbye and headed on his way.  
Dean had half a mind to go down there and beat those douchebags senseless, the idea of them within punching range made him extremely satisfied already. But he shook those thoughts away. Cas needed him right now.  
Dean approached the door, knocking firmly.  
There was no reply.  
The image of Castiel standing on the edge of the balcony suddenly sprang to mind, and panic gripped him momentarily. But he calmed himself down with the realization that if Cas had jumped, he would have seen his body coming in or heard something by now. No, Castiel was inside somewhere. In the back of his mind he knew there were other ways to take your own life, and the fleeting image of Castiel with one of Dean's daggers in his chest or sliced across his skin made Dean want to throw up. But he tried to push all that away, and knocked again.  
No reply.  
Castiel, hanging from the sturdy frame of their bed or the balcony by a sheet or a rope or belt or something. Dean hated his own imagination.  
He knocked again, harder.  
No reply. He listened for a moment, for the sound of walking, crying, breathing, rustling, anything.  
Nothing.  
Silence.  
Dean couldn't breath.  
He banged ot the door, punching it desperately, kicking it. Damn him for having such nice, sturdy, high quality doors!  
He found breath to scream.  
"Cas! Please!" He shouted first.  
No reply.  
He felt like his throat was constricting. He'd caught Castiel before, pulled him back, but those thoughts, those urges, they don't just go away, right? What if Dean was too late?  
He squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his forehead against he door.  
"Please be alive. Please be okay. Please open the door, Cas." He sobbed.  
The pressure he was leaning his weight against suddenly disappeared, and stumbled back a little from shock, blinking.  
The door was open, and Castiel was standing there, eyes red and swollen from crying, blood covering his split open knuckles as if he'd punched a wall, shaking, looking at him in confusion and shame.  
Dean felt his heart skip a beat, and he rushed forward, pulling the other man into his arms, clinging to him. Like if he didn't hold on as tight as possible, he would fall away.  
"Don't ever do that! Don't ever- oh god, you scared me, why didn't you answer, I thought-" Dean rambled, breath shaky, face red in anger. Castiel was still and unmoving at first, silent, but then something seemed to crumple and he was leaning into the Prince's arms.  
"I'm sorry, Dean. I wasn't even thinking of doing anything like that. I was just upset, I…………locked myself away. But I wouldn't…… I'm sorry I scared you."He mumbled.  
Dean's heart was beating a hundred miles a minute.  
Castiel smelled like the morning wind over the sea., like rough dusty burlap and exotic, old spices.  
"Okay. Good. Thank god, you..i was so terrified." He admitted. Castiel nodded, stubble grating against the soft skin of Dean's neck, sending a shiver don his spin.  
Dean pulled away a bit, cursing himself for wanting to move closer.  
Castiel wiped his face, shoulders sagging.  
"Arlin told me." Dean deadpanned.  
"Arik." Castiel corrected blandly, not meeting his eyes.  
"Yeah, sorry. Is it true? They….just showed up?" He asked gently, surpressing the urge to curse their names. Not that he knew them.  
Castiel nodded. "They….didn't know it was me they were coming to see. They came, begging the Chainbreaker for help. Apparently, my father remarried. Had another son. Samandriel. And apparently, he was captured, by slavers. It's not an uncommon thing. Ironic, though, isn't it?" Castiel's voice was bitter and exhausted. Dean's gut clenched.  
"They- how do you know they didn't do the same thing to him as you?" He exclaimed.  
Castiel ran his hands over his face.  
"Can we..please, I need to sit, I need….I'll tell you everything, can we just…"He gestured to the bed.  
And so the night found them, in bed, Dean sitting up with Castiel's head in his lap. He told him everything, crying a few times, a few times Dean had to hold him down from getting up and breaking something.  
When he was finished, there was silence, as they sat criss crossed across from each other.  
"I'm sorry I scared you. I hope you know, I wouldn't do anything like that again. I don't want to die, Dean." Castiel announced, looking up at him.

Dean pursed his lips.  
"I know you say that, but you almost threw yourself off that cliff, Cas! If I hadn't got there- I don't know what I would have done, I would have fond your body broken on the rocks if I had gotten there a second to late. And that terrifies me beyond imagination, Cas." Dean whispered harshly, shaking his head.  
Cas cupped the other man's cheek ini his warm callused hand.  
"I understand that. Now you need to understand me. That night....It's strange, it is, I don't completely get it myself, and this might sound stupid, but it wasn't about dying, Dean. It was about the fact I was already dead. It was about freedom, about escaping, about the hope that maybe I can find a life after death, better then that one. It wasn't about dying. It was about living. But you have given me that, Dean! You've given me a life, a purpose, hope, you and Sam and Ellen and Charlie and Jo and Bobby, Kevin and Garth, you gave me a family. One that wouldn't hurt me, wouldn't sell me away. And we have spited Alistair, which is another little bonus I was hoping for on that railing." Cas explained.  
Dean relaxed a little, but not all the way. "I..I think I get what your saying. It seems so unreal, that one act saved you from all that, that one act can drive every such thought from your mind. I want to believe it, I do. But, what if something happens? What if you get taken again, gods forbid, what if he hurts you again? Would you make the choice between that pain and dying again?" He asked.  
Castiel looked away, considering this.  
There was a heavy moment of silence, before he turned back to Dean with eyes full steel.  
"No. Never. I don't care what anyone does to me past this point. I don't care if he rapes me and locks me away, on the other side of the earth. I would stay alive, for you. For the chance to with you all again, and if you should die, I would carry on in your memory. "He replied, flames of determination in his voice, burning Dean's doubt from the cold night air.  
They fell asleep, limp and sated, and if either one had a problem with there hands intertwined, they didn't mention it to the other in the morning.  
Dean Winchesters last thought before he slipped into darkness was that he was utterly screwed, because no one made him feel like Castiel did.  
Not that he would dare admit it.  
\--------------------  
Morning's first rays of light outlined Castiel's sleeping form in gold, glowing mere inches from Dean's eyes. He stayed like that, gazing at the other man for a little, until he sighed, got up quietly and dressed, and shook the other man awake.  
Castiel mumbled, stretching as he blinked his eyes open, sleepily, mussed up hair and all making him look adorable. It was hard to look at him like that and think, wow, this is the same guy that bites through the ankles of mercenaries just because he's pissed! Yet nonetheless, it was true.  
"Morning, O Great Chainbreaker." Dean greeted, his voice teasing as he bowed mockingly. He had to duck the pillow that came flying at him, but he only chuckled. Yes, chuckled, not giggled. Dean Winchester never giggled. No matter what he might say if you got him drunk enough.  
"Come on, get dressed, I've got a surprise for you." Dean announced, heading to the desk and checking over some letters halfheartedly to give Castiel a moment to struggle from under the covers.

Castiel yawned as he stood, arching his back as he stretched and headed towards the closet. A tick of nervousness thrummed against his ribs. Alistair had loved to give Castiel surprises. They had usually consisted of some particularly cruel, creative torture session. Castiel pushed those thoughts away, taking a deep refreshing breath and smiling. Surely, Dean's surprise would be much more pleasant. He moved behind the screen, pulling off his wrinkled cloths and throwing them in the hamper for Tracy, the laundry maid, to come and fetch sometime in the day. She had a dull smile, but bright eyes, and could heft four hampers of wet laundry with one hand if need be. Castiel had made an immediate mental note to get on her bad side, no matter his new social ranking.  
He supposed years of being a theif, a spy, a fighter and whatever Alistair wanted him to be had given him a certain sense of people that could spell trouble, could get in the way of carrying out the mission. And what mission Castiel was really preforming anymore, he did not know. And that was terrifying, and exhilarating. He pulled on fresh cloths, a light baggy white cotton shirt (more of a blouse, teased Charlie whenever she saw them), and laced up dark, soft trousers. Tugging on leather boots and running a hand through his messy hair, he came out from behind the screen, and followed an excited Dean out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn sorry this took so long  
> writing is hard  
> chuck was right  
> p.s Yes, Chuck will be in this story, actually, he's in the next chapter. The next chapter is kind of a turning point in understanding the bigger picture of this story, because i've been holding out on you. There is more to this story then pirates and slaves and princes, although those are all nice things  
> This shit is about to get hella crazy and I hope you all love it  
> this chapter is dedicated to Brianna and all her friends down there in the scary south  
> *Washington girl shivers in fear of the unknown and clutches her Starbucks closer*
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO: HAPPY HOLIDAYS MY LOVES, YOUR ENTHUSIASM FOR THIS STORY HAS MADE IT POSSIBLE  
> \-----------  
> follow me on tumblr at falling-in-love-with-fandoms.tumblr.com  
> \----  
> also im going to be changing the summary soon because this summary was rushed and sucks and does it no justice, although it did get all of you here, so I guess im just naturally talented even when im half-assing it


	16. Envy the Dead (For They Get to Rest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael pays the price for his ignorance, and Dean learns a lot of of things he'd rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "oh bury me  
> I want to die  
> with a ring on my finger and the sun in my eyes  
> I swear I ain't sad  
> oh lord i'm just tired  
> of dragging 'round this suitcase full of hard times and fire  
> I don't trust myself  
> and I don't trust you,  
> we're just lying to each other  
> and that just won't do"  
> \- 'Bury Me' by Squinch Owl

                                                       

 

"So, how much of the grounds have you explored?" Dean asked as they headed towards the farthest western corridor, which led past the servants chambers.  
"Not all that much, really, i've gotten so caught up in all this I guess." Castiel admitted.  
Dean nodded, heading down a series of steps and pushing open a plain wooden door. Castiel followed him, and was momentarily blinded by the sun. Blinking, he found himself looking upon a stretch of green grass rolling out, dotted with various buildings and crisscrossed with stone paths, flowers and fountains blooming amongst it all.  
"It seems i've been holding out on myself." Castiel mused as they began to stroll down one of the paths. Birds flitted about them, ranging from the size of his pinky nail to bigger then his head, there mixed calls and titters filling the warm air with an almost intoxicating music. The flowers were exotic and delicate, most of them changing color slowly, their petals fading from a vibrant pink to a pale blue in a matter of moments. It made it seem like there was a moving, rippling blanket of color across the ground. Dean grinned as he spotted Cas staring.  
"Yeah, those were my mothers favorite. Sammaras, they're called. Named after an old story she used to read me, from the Time Before, about the irony of trying to avoid Death. The flowers change like that to attract pollinators, but it also attracts predators." Dean explained.  
Cas nodded. "My mother's favorite flowers where Phoenix Granua's, they grow on the edges of the highest cliff's in the mountains, and only bloom on the summer equinox. Then, they shine in the sunlight, but only for a moment, because something in them causes them to burst into flames if they are left in the sunlight to long. And yet, they'll only grow in direct sunlight. Strange things, they are. Absolutely no sense at all. But her and my father would go on long journeys, just to glimpse them bloom. She was obsessed with trying to take one home somehow, preserve it, an-"  
Another voice, with a hit of wistful fondness lacing it cut in from behind him.  
"And she would always burn herself getting to close. Mad, she was, going that close to fire of all things." Michael sighed.  
Castiel and Dean whirled around. Dean moved forward a bit, a snarl on his lips, but a tense hand on his wrist from Castiel drew him back.  
Michael was smiling at the flowers, nostalgic sadness seeming to exude every part of his body. No one said anything for a moment.  
"You always reminded me so much of her. Jumping from bluffs and tree's, practically flying, not afraid of falling at all. Swimming about, not a thought that you might drown, always playing with father's matches, as if fire didn't terrify you., like it does everyone else. Like nothing in the world could hurt you." His older brother reminisced, still staring at the flowers.  
"Well you proved me wrong, didn't you?" Castiel spat, acid in his voice. Dean glanced at him in surprise.  
Michael winced. He pursed his lips, and finally looked up at him. There were tears in his eyes.  
"I know. You know that I know. You know how much I have hate every breath I take after that day. I went back, I did. And I do not really expect you to just forgive me. But-" He threw his hands in the air, gesturing around them. "Look at this place! Your living the life of a King, has your life really been that bad? I mean, I don't know what happened after I did that to you, but obviously it got you in a better place then you would have ever been-" He was cut of by a laugh. Not a happy laugh, but an ironic, crazed one, almost insane, as Castiel threw back his head. He laughed like mad man. Dean took a slight step back, eyes wide in alarm. The laughter died, and Castiel's face went stoic, angry, and he cocked his head. Blue eyes bore down on Michael like boulders, threatening to crush him.  
"Your right, Michael, you don't know! I hadn't really realized it till now, thank you so much for pointing it out! You don't know what happened to me! And I think you really deserve to know, so I'm going to tell you." He exclaimed, his voice cracking and hysterical. His mouth tightened and he stepped forward. Dean and Michael were frozen, staring at him.  
"And your going to sit there, and your going to fucking listen, and your not going to say a word. Do you understand?" He asked with an dangerous edge to his voice. Michael nodded wordlessly, eyes wide, swallowing.  
"Good. Now, of course, first off, they locked me up. Horribly damp little cell, cold, and I cried so hard I think I almost ripped my eyes apart. Next, they dragged me into room, made me take a bath, and trussed me up nice and pretty, like I was some object to go on a shelf, slung a number around me and locked me in a rooms with hundreds of other people. Crying, screaming, broken, angry people, mothers and babies and fathers and brothers, all half naked and branded like me, like cattle waiting to be sent to the slaughter house. And they called me out, by a number. Because that's all I was anymore, was a number! Auctioned me off, like a piece of furniture! To a man named Alistair, but the first thing I learned was to call him nothing but Master. The second thing? I always had to say thank you. Even when he was whipping me, even when he was shoving his cock down my fucking 13 year old throat and making me choke on it, I always had to say thank you! Do you know why? Do you?" His calm, tension filled voice slowly cracked and raised, till he was almost shouting. Michael was pale. He wordlessly shook his head, eyes so big they were practically popping out of his head. Dean felt like he was going to throw up, he wanted to bash Michael's head in for making any of this happen, but he didn't move, didn't say a word, because this was not about him.  
The tears that had ben welling up in Castiel's angry blue eyes finally spilled over. He stabbed his index finger against his chest.  
"Because I was worthless! Every second of time Alistair wasted on me, I was grateful for, even when he was making me bleed and scream, because I didn't even deserve that. And you know what? Sometimes, in the earlier years, I would screw up. And the only thing worse then punishment, was not being punished! I would make a mistake, and sometimes, he would just shake his head and send me away, because I wasn't worth the effort!" Castiel's pain bubbled up into ironic laughter.  
"Can you believe it? Not even worth beating! Not even worth fucking, he always threatened he would bend me over and split me open, but he never did, because I wasn't worth raping! I was barely worth anything, even to him! Locked me away, because I wasn't worth the time! I would end up screaming, begging him to hurt me! I'm so fucking pathetic, I wanted him to torture me, if only it meant I was worth something! I worked so fucking hard to please him, I stole, I fought, I spied, because I wanted to impress him, I wanted to be a good slave! And I was! I was very good! I learned to do whatever I had to to please Master, because Master was everything! I became the best damn cocksucker this side of Setebasca!" His voice broke, but he recovered quickly.  
"And I loved it, and I hated it! I hated him, I hated you, I loved you, I loved him, I don't know! I knew one thing, though- I sure fucking hated myself! I was nothing! Nothing! Worthless! I loved it, I hated it, I honestly don't know, because I didn't think I deserved to feel things! I thought about killing him, I did, and I could have done it! But I didn't, because what would I do? I was worthless, I had nowhere to go, I didn't deserve freedom! And even if I did, I didn't want to become like him! I would rather die then have blood on my hands. At least, that's what I thought before I met Dean. Before I had a reason to fight besides just following orders, a reason to feel, a reason to live! Because I was dead, Michael! You, Him, Lucifer, all of you! You killed me! Do you fucking understand that? I died on that auction stage, and I lived as nothing but a worthless shadow, a ghost, desperate for any taste of life! I can not stress how much you hurt me! I can not even begin to tell you- you know what!" Castiel paused, his eyes full of a half-crazed idea, and before anyone could stop him,he ripped off his shirt, and tossed it to the ground, baring his scars for everyone to see. Michael squeezed his eyes shut, flinching back, but Castiel was having none of that. He stepped even closer, shaking him by the shoulders and shoving him. Michael's eyes snapped open, and all the blood seemed to leave him as his eyes flicked over the scars. God, there were so many.  
"Look at me!" He screamed in desperation."Look at your handiwork! Alistair may have done the dirty work, but this is all you! Look at me!"  
Michael did, he looked, and he saw. He saw every cut, every lash, every burn, and he turned and he ran. He ran like a man possessed. Castiel's mad fever seemed to drain out of him, and he swayed. But Dean was there to catch him. He leaned into the other mans shoulder, before sighing and pulling back, scooping up his shirt. He glanced around. Luckily, it seemed no one else had been privy to that.  
Dean offered him a hand.  
"I'm proud of you. That was, well, horrifying. But he deserved it. Now, lets forget about all that for a little." He offered, jutting his head towards a large building in the distance. Castiel slipped his hand into the Prince's hand, and they wear on there way again. Castiel was silent, subdued, sagging with exhaustion. But if he stumbled, Dean would catch him.  
Dean would always catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah that was a bit short but damn was it intense  
> I cried writing it I will not lie  
> yes I know I said Chuck would be in this chapter, but I guess I miss judged, he's in the next one.  
> \--------  
> Songs Listened To Will Writing This: Bury Me by Squinch Owl  
> \----------------------------  
> comments make me write faster and better guys  
> \---------  
> everyone should follow me at falling-in-love-with-fandoms.tumblr.com  
> \-------  
> this chapter is dedicated to Devilsdestiny and saph


	17. The Past Is Ringing In My Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has no hold over the soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little soul  
> The world is a cold, cold place to be  
> Want a little warmth  
> But who’s gonna save a little warmth for me?
> 
> If I’m born again I know that the world will disagree  
> Want a little grace but who’s gonna say a little grace for me?
> 
> -'Unbelievers" by Vampire Weekend

 

                                                    

 

The closer they got to the building, the wider Castiel's eyes became.  
It was large, with arching windows, huge and tall and stained glass. Stone statues of winged men and woman lined the turrets at the top. The strangest thing, it seemed, was the hundreds of birds swopping in and out of various holes in the walls, slanted like garbage chutes, carrying things. The minute they entered the oaken paneled doors, Castiel forgot all about his siblings and his past. High lofty bookshelves towered above them in rows and rows, on either side of a large isle full of tables and chairs and people, mulling about. The stained glass windows let in the sun in patches of color, immortalizing the dust in rays of light, like pillars holding up an empty sky. Castiel had never seen so many books in his life. Not all of them were in the best condition, but everyone seemed to be treating them very carefully. He could even see a few people in special little cubicles with gloves and enlarging glasses in front of them, studying books that looked more like relics than anything else. Cas turned to Dean, who was grinning smugly.  
"What is this place?" He asked. Dean started walking, and Castiel matched his pace.  
"The Knowledge Center of Halaera. It's a Library, a Museum, Communications Center, A lot of things. But what I want to show you is downstairs." He headed towards a hole in the floor surrounded by railing on three sides, leading down a staircase.

Castiel followed his friend down into the unknown, giddy with excitement. The staircase opened up into another room, full of rows of glass cases full of artifacts, and on the outsides where more bookcases, with glass locked fronts to them. Above them, in the rafters they had just been walking over, were hundreds of perches and little houses. Not to mention the dozens of birds flitting about.

"They carry messages and packages." Dean clarified.

"Only when they want to, unfortunately! Fickle beasts." A voice sighed.  
Castiel whirled around in trained alarm. A small man with curly hair and stubble was holding a chunk of what look like black rock in gloved hands. Dean just smiled.  
"Hey Chuck. What have you got there?" He asked.  
Chuck held up the chunk and approached them.  
"A 'cellular' phone." He responded. Upon closer inspection of the chunk of rock, you could see a hunk of color, twisted and deformed and trapped in the layers of stone. Castiel frowned at the strange substance.  
"Is it some sort of mineral?" He inquired. Chuck chuckled, setting it down.

"So you’re the Chainbreaker, eh? Tell me, how much do you know about the time before?" He inquired, picking up a magnifying glass and inspecting the rock closer.  
Castiel frowned. "Not that much. I never had much time for history lessons, being a slave." He admitted.  
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. Chuck didn't seem fazed by this.  
"Well, tell me what you do know." Castiel glanced around in a little bit of confusion, as if trying to catch the point of the conversaiton.  
"Well, I know that a really long time ago, humans lived with like monsters and angels and stuff, but then they started killing each other so 'God' destroyed everything and made it restart." He said slowly, trying to remember the thing his father had told him. Chuck nodded in approval, standing and turning to the glass cases. He skimmed his hands over the glass.  
"Humans were very advanced by that point, they had invented all sorts of technology. None of which helped them against a war with demons, angels, and every monstrosity under the sun. It wasn't about sides, either. It was all out bloodshed. Angels against Angels, Demons against Demons, Humans against humans, Wendigo and Wendigo neck to neck for whatever food they could find. And them all against the others. It's said it started when God disappeared, but when he returned, he was angry. He was heartbroken. He had such high hopes for his creations, all of them. But they only tore each other apart. So with a heavy hand, he threw all the demons and angels to earth, closed Heaven and Hell and everything in between, till everyone was trapped on earth. And then, he lit the flames of the apocalypse. Angels, Demons, Monsters, Humans, they all burned together. Till there was nothing left. It took thousands of years for life to return for humanity to restart its evolution. And now look at us. Fighting for the right to discover our own destinies, all over again." He shrugged. Castiel cocked his head.

"Where did the rest of it go? Surely the demons, the monster and angels and whatever, their souls and energies didn't just leave?" He questioned.  
Chuck turned to him, and grinned.  
"Oh, I like you. You ask all the right questions." He said cheerily. He pointed towards the large book in one of the glass cases, weathered and torn and almost indecipherable. Dean and Cas moved closer to look. It looked like the letters had been retouched, restored.  
"They went somewhere, Castiel. I believe that humanity isn't what it used to be. I think God is still around somewhere, twisting fate design into whatever pattern he fancies." He gestured to the left page that the book was opened. He squinted leaning against the glass.

"What book is this?" He asked quietly.  
Chuck grinned. "It's writings from the Time Before, during the Great War." Castiel felt the blood drain from his face as he read.

 

_Of all God's angels, the one known as Castiel stood out the most to the eyes of man. While the other angels ripped apart each other and everything, fighting for dominance and order and power, Castiel wished only for peace. He begged his brothers to stop the madness and bind together to protect humanity from the hordes of Hell, but they would not listen. He found a way to turn demons back to humans, but it did little to turn the tides. He healed children of their wounds, only to see them die at the hands of their own mothers turned into monstrosities. Eventually, he found allies in a small group, consisting of demons, angels, a vampire and a prophet. I happen to be one of that group. We found every tablet of the Word of God, and using their messages, we formed a plan. We needed to summon God back, hoping he would save us or at least end this madness once and for all. But in order to do that, we needed the Grace of an angel. Not just the Grace itself either, it had to be everything. The soul, the mind, the heart, the very essence, and it could not be stolen. It had to be given willingly. Castiel volunteered, and in one final act of love for all of creation, he gave himself up. Now, God has returned. And he is terrifying, and he is wonderful. He is heartbroken at what he has found, He says he hoped that if he left them to themselves, they would find peace among themselves. He was then outraged, even more outraged then when he had to throw Lucifer from heaven. But then we gave him the essence of Castiel, and he held that light in his hands, and he wept. We asked why he cried, we were afraid we had done more wrong. He smiled at us. It was amazing. He told us that he had lost faith in his own work for a moment, but the love in Castiel had restored it. He told us that this world was done, and that he had to end it. We understood. He told us that he had already done this once before, with water, and now he must again with fire. He promised back then, that he would never do it again. But with the state of this earth, promises had to be broken. But he tells us not to be afraid, for thanks to Castiel, he has decided that after the fires burn out, he will try again, one last time, and he will take all our souls and put them back into the germ of humanity. He whispered to the essence of Castiel, "Do not fear my child, you will see the sun again. And you will know love in this next life, and hopefully, your heart will shine out just as bright into this new world." He tells us that it will be a long time waiting in the dark. But that is alright, because I have seen the smile of God, and I do not fear Death. I have sent the light of Castiel, one last shred of true hope in this despair, and I am excited to live again. I hope, in the next life, that we meet again. But for now, all I can do is tell his story, lock this record of what happened in a shielded box, bury it, fling the word of god back across the globe and wait for the flames to take me. I have some vain hope that he will find this one day, and he will know who he is. He is light. He is endurance. He is love. He is faith. He is so full of humanity, because humanity is not dependent on species. It is dependent on whats inside of you. He did not give me faith in god. He gave me faith in myself. Goodbye, world. Goodbye, Castiel._

Dean was as silent as him.  
"Tell me, why did your parents give you that name?" Chuck asked in a pondering tone, breaking the heavy silence.  
Castiel's eyes remained glued to the page.  
"My mother always said that a man came, and told it to her in a dream." He whispered.  
"What kind of man?"  
"An angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually beta'd so yay  
> um yeah this might fuck with your heads a little but thats my favorite thing to do so  
> \--------------------  
> follow me on tumblr at falling-in-love-with-fandoms.com  
> also im working on a destiel fic rec blog bc all I do is read and write the stuff so 
> 
> ALSO  
> yo yo yo guess who figured out italics thats right me hell yeah  
> SUPERNATURAL COMES BACK IN TWO DAYS IM SO FRACKING EXCITED I DIED MY HAIR THE COLOR OF CASTIEL'S EYES IN CELEBRATION I'VE NEVER DIED MY HAIR BEFORE IN MY LIFE


	18. Love Is An Open Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm falling to close to your bed  
> shut out out the world  
> and give me somewhere to rest my head  
> the night is half gone  
> tomorrow is too far along  
> \- me at 3:00 A.M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've got it all  
> You lost your mind in the sound  
> There's so much more  
> You can reclaim your crown  
> You're in control  
> Rid of the monsters inside your head  
> Put all your faults to bed  
> You can be king again
> 
> You don't get what all this is about  
> You're too wrapped up in your self doubt  
> You've got that young blood, set it free  
> \- Lauren Aquilina, 'King'

 

                                                

Castiel demanded they leave, and Dean bade Chuck goodbye. The walk back as silent and tense. Castiel slammed the door to their room behind them. He had his back turned to Dean.  
"Did you know about this?" He asked quietly, an edge to his voice.  
"I only remembered when you jumped off into the sea and blew up Alistair's ship. I remember thinking, the way you jumped, you acted like the air and water were part of you." Dean admitted.  
Castiel huffed. "What, I'm supposed to believe I'm the reincarnation of the savior of the human race? Of an angel? What the fuck is that?" He exclaimed.

"I don't even know if it's true! I just….the puzzle pieces seem to fit. “Dean shrugged. Castiel whirled on him.

"Me? An angel? That's fucking insane! I'm just a slave in a free man's clothing, Dean!" He exclaimed, voice cracking. He ran his hands over his face.

Dean stepped forward, eyes brimmed with tears, jaw clenched.

"Even after all this? You still think that?" He whispered. Castiel pursed his lips, and went to turn away, but Dean cupping his cheek stopped him. The touch was so gentle and intimate, it blindsided him. Dean stepped closer, and looked down at him, eyes full of a whirling storm of emotion Castiel couldn't fathom.

"You’re….more then you'll ever know, I think. I can't describe it to you. I had given up on that slave ship, Cas! I couldn't imagine any way to get out that wouldn't end in pain or death. But then you came down, like a light in the dark, leading me to steady waters. Your bad ass as hell, and a little scary at times, your good, your kind, your loyal, your self-destructive and terrified of your own emotions, but you’re not selfish. You’re helping your siblings even after everything, and I think eventually you might end up forgiving them. You don't have it in you to do anything but love, except anyone who threatens what you do love. You give horrible people more chances then they really deserve, and still feel bad about it because hurting people without an intensely justified reason to you is painful. It's amazing. You’re amazing. You don't take a damn thing for granted. You don't put up with anything that you don't think you deserve. You’re strong and your weak and you’re the epitome of human compassion, human loyalty, faith, passion. You've been hurt in all the worst god damn ways, and you still love smelling flowers. Is it any wonder in some past life you were an angel?" Dean grinned, smiling at Castiel with such warmth and love it made his knee's buckle.  
\-----------------------------------------------  
Awareness hummed underneath heavy eyelids. A voice floated just above him. A familiar voice. Someone he cared about.

"Adam, are you awake? Adam?" Samandriel whispered, holding the damp rag to his forehead. The other boy’s eyes flickered open, hazy until they focused on him. A weak smile spread across the injured boy's expression.  
"Hey, Sandy." He murmured. The low candlelight set shadows across Samandriel's face, but they did nothing to hide his frown.

"You’re a real fucking idiot, you know that? And that's not my name." He said stiffly, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling as he dabbed the other boy's forehead.  
Adam turned his head a little, leaning into the touch. "Better me then that little boy." He replied.  
Samandriel clenched his jaw. "I know. But I- I had to watch-" He sighed.

"I won't promise I wouldn't do it again." Adam admitted. Samandriel rolled his eyes.

"I know. I just…Isn't there any damned way to escape from this place?" He sighed in exhaustion.  
"Death, getting sold." Adam said, tone tired and resigned. Samandriel shook his head.  
"No. I won't accept that. My brothers, they must be doing something. Who knows, maybe they went to the Chainbreaker or something. “Samandriel shrugged, the ghost of a smile on his lips.  
Adam wrinkled his brow. "Who?"  
Samandriel blinked. "You don't know? There's this guy, he's taking apart the slave network piece by piece with his bare hands practically, with the help of the King and the crew of the Impala, you know, the Winchester Brothers? Yeah, apparently he used to be a slave himself, and escaped, and now they've teamed up and there determined to dismantle the network." Samandriel explained.  
Something flickered in Adam's eyes.  
"The Winchester Brothers? I thought they just stole from Setebascian nobles and hunted criminals and stuff, saving damsels in distress and stuff." He inquired. Samandriel shook his head. "Yeah, but then someone they cared about, a relative, someone, I can't remember, got kidnapped and they've been tearing apart the world trying to find them again. And then Dean Winchester got captured himself, and apparently this Chainbreaker guy got him out, and since he was apparently a slave to some big hotshot in the slave network, he knows inside stuff, and it's really turned the tides." Samandriel grinned at the thought. Adam had gone pale.

He leaned closer, worried. "What’s wrong?"  
"Nothing. Everything…is amazing." He breathed, eyes wide and filled with a new light of hope. Samandriel frowned.  
"What?"  
"Those are my brothers. I'm the one who got taken. I didn't think- I thought they were dead, that’s what Abbadon told me, but there not- Sandy, I’m the one they're looking for!"

And with that on their minds, the candle shone a little brighter, and their touches seemed to last little longer, the warmth a constant reminder that they were not alone, and there was the wisp of hope on the air. Adam had forgotten how sweet it was to breath.  
\-------------------------------------

"It had to be there, didn't it?" Dean groaned, turning his face away from the map on the table. Castiel pursed his lips.

"It's the long term prison for slaves. It _has_ to be where Samandriel, and even Adam must be! They're holed up in there like cattle, waiting for the slaughter. The prisons are underground, built into a series of tunnels that are as old as the Time Before, it's rumored. No one who goes beyond that cavern any deeper ever comes out. It's unexplored. But there are also caves in the eastern cliff face of the island that lead into the lower part of the tunnels, we could go through those and work our way up, break into the cavern form the back, get the slaves out, onto the boats and leave before they were any the wiser." Castiel exclaimed, gesturing at the little bean shape of land on the map.

"That island is completely surrounded by cliffs, there isn't anywhere to dock. We would have to do this by rope and pulley, who knows how many slaves there are? And that island is prone to being an epicenter of huge tropical storms, no wonder the network's base is underground. It's suicidal to sail into that!" Sam explained. Dean frowned.  
"Wait, if the cliff's lead directly to the tunnels, why doesn't the network use them?" Dean asked suspiciously. Castiel worked his lip between his teeth, glancing away, as if he'd been caught in a lie.  
"Because they are under the water line for the majority of the year. For a short period of time during the spring, they are close enough to the surface to survive using. But that's only on a calm day, curing low tide. It's very risky." He said carefully. Dean threw his hands up in the air.  
"That is way too risky! That's so many variables-" He exclaimed, but a laugh from Kevin cut him off.  
"We've done crazier. Besides. This is Adam." He retorted, cocking an eyebrow at Dean knowingly. An unknown emotion flittered over his features, before his shoulders sagged in relief, and he turned back to the map. The King was stroking his chin in consideration.  
"All my manpower is split between beefing the Setebasca border and protecting the people throughout the port towns from attack. You need more than the crew of the Impala to get this job done. And they have would have to be either crazy or crazy motivated to go on this mission with you." He mused. They all considered this grimly. A creeping thought snuck up on Castiel.  
"I think I may know just the people." He said darkly.  
\-------  
"Wait, wait, _what?_ Gabriel exclaimed.  
Castiel had his arms crossed, shoulders back, jaw clenched as he stood in front of his siblings in their chambers. Dean and Bobby where in the doorway watching.  
"We think we've found where Samandriel and some other slaves are being kept. But it's difficult terrain on the surface, surrounded by water, prone to hurricanes, swarming with mercenaries and network soldiers and slavers, the slaves are underground in a complex dangerous series of tunnels we can only access from underwater for a short period of time without the risk of drowning, we'll be short on men even with you with us, and to be frank Samandriel might not even be there. But it's all we got. Are you coming or not?" He deadpanned.  
His siblings exchanged looks, but Michael stood without hesitation, determination in his gaze.  
"I will go with you." He replied instantly. Castiel blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected responsible Michael of all people to agree to such a half cracked idea. His surprise must have shown on his face, because Michael looked him right in the eye as he spoke.  
"After everything I did to you, I would follow you to the end of the world without question, and thank you as I died." He said, sincerity lining his every word. The other's stood one by one, nodding in agreement. Something tugged in the pit of Castiel's gut.  
"Good. Get packed, kiddos, we're going on a trip." Dean exclaimed happily, clapping Cas on the shoulder and leading him away. Castiel was dumfounded by his brother's words, saying nothing as Dean led him back to their room.  
"Get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow." He told him. Castiel obeyed mutely, eyes vacant and wide as he got dressed in his sleeping cloths, and crawled into his side of the bed. Dean shut the balcony doors and blew out the candles, climbing in with him.

Just as Dean was not the verge of sleep, a voice snapped his eyes to attention.  
 _"Shit!"_  
"What?"  
"I'm starting to forgive them!" Castiel exclaimed grumpily.  
Dean huffed. "Told you so."  
"I hate you."  
"No you don't."

Castiel turned his back on the other man, but a smile graced his lips as he fell asleep, all too aware of the heat radiating from a few inches away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit's gonna get intense the next few chapters just warning you  
> guys  
> guYS  
> GUYS  
> DRAW FANART OF THIS FIC  
> IT DOESEN'T EVEN HAVE TO BE SUPER GOOD BUT UGH UGH I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE DRAW THINGS  
> my lovely wifey HappyEmoness has been going through the rest of this fic and fixing it up so the first few chapters have already been corrected for grammar and stuff + my friend Justin beta'd the last few chapters along with this one + i'm getting better I swear


	19. The Boy Who Ran Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness is the key to the chains we never knew we were wearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And even if the morning never comes  
> My hands are blessed to have touched the sun  
> \- Local Natives, 'Sun Hands'

                                                 

 

As Dean worked with Bobby and the King to gather all the supplies they would need, Castiel wandered off back to their room.

He wasn't at all surprised to find himself on the balcony, hands smoothing over the railing, staring up at a burning morning sky. As if clouds were tinged with the blood of the setting moon, set aflame by the sun rising to take its place.  
Was he forgiving his siblings? Could he? Should he? Michael and Naomi where one thing, but Gabriel and that lot hadn't actually sold him, they had just left him. But then again, when Gabriel had offered him his hand what seemed like a lifetime ago, he had been the one to run away. It struck Castiel that if he had gone with Gabriel, he wouldn't have been sold. He would never have been broken at the hands of Alistair. Running away that day had been the biggest mistake of his life, right next to trusting Michael and Lucifer. But if he had never been sold, he would never have saved Dean and those people, he never would had met his new friends. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, looking over the city and the sea. He had the world at his fingertips. And yet, he was reluctant to touch it for fear that it would be ripped away. Just like he had been ripped away from his home. He envisioned Gabriel's back as he walked out the door, framed in gold. He couldn't remember if Gabriel had ever looked back.

Then it hit him. It didn't matter. Because Gabriel had _come back for him_ , but he had been gone, Michael had gone back to get him, but he had been gone. Dean came back for him, and saved him from being gone forever. It was Castiel who kept leaving, one way or another. And now he was running away again. Why? Why did he keep running away from happiness, letting the world rip him apart without a protest? He was angry at Michael, and that was a problem for another time. But Gabriel, Anna, and Balthazar? They had never done him wrong. He wasn't mad at them. He was mad at himself, for being too afraid to take that outstretched hand. He was too afraid to fight back against Alistair. He'd been too afraid to protest the excursion out into the town in the middle of town, when he had known it was bad news. He'd been too afraid to follow Dean into freedom the first time. He was so afraid of losing Dean he risked his life to stop Alistair, Abbadon, all of them. Dean had called him a fighter. Which was true. He fought for Dean, for the crew of the Impala. Maybe it was time he started fighting for himself as well. He had never fought against Alistair, until Dean gave him reason to.

He felt a sudden surge of rage. He didn't deserve to be a slave. He didn't deserve to be unhappy. Dean was right. Whether or not he was an angel in a past life, which he was still trying to wrap his head around, who's to say he couldn't be an angel in this one? But to be happy, to move past the dark, he had to let go of his anger, and direct it towards his enemies. Two images played themselves over and over in his head. Gabriel holding out his hand, and Dean holding out his on that balcony. It was time to stop being afraid.  
He'd taken one, maybe it wasn't too late to take the other one.

He stood up straighter and took a deep breath, whirling around and rushing towards the door. As he raced down the hall he could hear his heart beating in his ears as he made his way towards the room his siblings were in. He didn't even bother knocking, he just ripped open the door. Michael and Naomi where nowhere to be seen. Anna was sitting cross legged on the bed next to Balthazar, Gabriel standing above them. Whatever conversation they had been having was cut short by Castiel's arrival. Before anyone could say a word, Castiel rushed forward, eyes brimmed with tears, and embraced Gabriel. His brother was stiff with surprise at first, but soon sagged and wrapped his arms around him tightly, as if he couldn't believe this was real.  
"You’re not mad?" He whispered. Castiel huffed, pulling back a little to look him and the others in the eye.  
"I was never angry with you. I was just confused. I needed time to digest." He assured them.  
Anna's lip quivered. "But we left you, if we hadn't-" Castiel cut her off.  
"I ran away. You offered me salvation and I ran away. It's no one's fault, at least no one in this room. The others….I don't know how I feel about them. But I love you. I always have. I missed you so much. “Castiel’s voice cracked, and Balthazar pull him into his arms. Anna and Gabriel joined the group hug. It lasted for what seemed like forever, but must have been only a few moments before they pulled apart.  
"We will find Samandriel. I will not let my little brother suffer the same fate I did, even if I've never met him." Castiel declared.  
Gabriel laughed. "You'll like him, trust me. He's a goodhearted little spitfire, real smart too." He then sighed, sadness leaking into air amidst all the warmth of their reunion.  
"We will find him." Castiel repeated, determination lacing his words.

And so a week later, with the Impala primmed and loaded with supplies and crewman of old and new, they set sail for the island of Nulmoria, which translated to _The Pit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but who cares 
> 
> i've started a few more fanfictions that everyone should go read bc we all know what a great writer I am  
> beta'd by the lovely Justin, known as T13 on ao3, who's one of my best friends and writes one direction fanfictions a lot if you guys are interested in that go read his stuff
> 
> follow me on tumblr at falling-in-love-with-fandoms  
> follow justin my bff and beta at victoriousvevo


	20. Oblivion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is what it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How come I've never seen your face 'round here?  
> I know every single face 'round here  
> A man on a mission, changing the vision  
> I was never welcome here
> 
> We don't have a choice to stay  
> We'd rather die than do it your way
> 
> With our backs to the wall, the darkness will fall  
> We never quite thought we could lose it all  
> Ready, aim, fire, ready, aim, fire  
> An empire's fall in just one day  
> You close your eyes and the glory fades  
> \- Imagine Dragons "Ready, Aim, Fire"

The salty sea breeze stirred something in Cas, and he took in as deep a breath as he could.

The castle and the grounds were wonderful, but nothing was quite like the sea and sky, the sun on his skin and salt on his lips. They'd been sailing a week now, with two ships. The Impala, and The Elysium. Dean captioned one, Sam the other. Michael and Naomi were on the Elysium, but Gabriel, Anna and Balthazar were just down on the deck, cleaning. They were quick learners.

 

Dean was discussing something with Bobby, and Castiel had a rare break in his duties. As he stared out towards the horizon, dread and purpose filled him. Like a wave, rising up inside him, that he knew was bound to crash. A pressure. He new that something he couldn't name was waiting for him. The trickiest part was maneuvering to the cliffs on the west side of the island without being seen from the east side, but hopefully they managed it.

They maneuvered the Impala into a small little inlet, and Elysium stayed at the entrance. The cave's were gaping and just above the water line, like eyes as black as coal, drawing all light in and consuming it. They tied up all their weapons and supplies in watertight leather packs, with air pockets in them to counter the weight so they would be easy to take into the tunnels.

"We don't know how long the underwater part of the tunnels go on. We could drown." Castiel said simply, to the group next to him. Dean, Sam, Gabriel, Jo, Anna, Balthazar, Naomi and Michael. Dread stirred the air in his lungs, dragging hollow breaths from somewhere in the tendrils of his tense figure, taught muscles and fast beating heart, waiting for the other foot to drop as he stared into those gaping lifeless oblivions. For the first time in his life, he feared the physical unknown. Insecurity, doubt, unknown in the realm of his life, that was terrifying. But the dark, deep water, death- it had never scared him as it did others. And even now, he was not fearing for himself, but for his family and friends. Something evil resided before them, hiding in shadows and untouched places. Beckoning him, taunting him like it knew something he didn't. Which could be any number of things, considering Chuck's theory of angels and gods and demons and monsters. Then, it had seemed like fools hardy, but as he stared into their destination, he knew them to be at least partial truths.

They had no other choice. He had spent the voyage teaching the others how to swim well, how not to panic, coaching them. He turned to the others, who seemed just as apprehensive as him.

That was comforting.

"But I find myself doubting that will dissuade you." He sighed. Heads nodded their confirmation. So, with no further stalling, Castiel tied the leather rope around his waist and stretched a little, before taking a deep breath and before he knew it he was gliding through cool fluid.

It clung to him, wreathing around him like lovers hands.

It caressed his skin in a way Dean Winchester would never, from the way he acted. That ache in his heart intensified, but he pushed it away, focusing on the task at hand. He paddled towards the gaping black hole, aware of other bodies behind him. The leather bag at the end of his rope slowed him a little, but not enough to be an inconvenience. Soon, the water grew black as night, and cold. occasionally, he bumped against the walls. His lungs burned for air, but he couldn't even see, let alone find the way to the surface. If there was one. Castiel closed his eyes, and shut everything else out. He felt a pulling, in his core, and paddled in the direction it drew him, kicking back against the leather cord to alert the others to follow him. His head broke into air, and he gasped. Soon, the others did the same, heaving air.

It was still impossible to see, but Castiel could feel the shore a little ways away. They dragged themselves onto the shore, pulling the bags behind them. Castiel scrambled to undo the pack- oh, god, no. The leather bindings hadn't worked. Everything on the inside was soaked. Including the flare torches. From the groans off to his left, this was the same for everyone.

"How the hell are we supposed to find out way around here without any light?" Gabriel's voice lamented. Everyone else began to argue, but Castiel ignored them, mind whirling. There was something about this place, that seemed to unleash a heat inside Castiel he'd never been aware of, allowing him to feel his surroundings without touching them. He focused on that heat, letting the sparks of it race through his veins, and gathered it in his hands. Before he knew it, a soft electric blue glow curled into a little ball of light. Everyone went silent. Castiel stared down at his hands in wonder, and kept feeding the heat into his hands, letting the light grow, until he could see a good few yards in every direction. The water lapped against an obsidian shore a few feet away. His company where all huddled near the shore, staring at him.

It was then he realized just what he was doing, and blinked.

"What the _fuck?_ " Dean exclaimed. Castiel shakily stood, holding the light up.

"I have no idea. It's something about this place. I suppose I might owe Chuck an apology." He said, shrugging. He didn't have the patience to wrap his head around this development at the moment. Everyone else stood, looking him in a new light. No pun intended. He turned, squinting as he examined their surroundings. A tunnel led off to the right. 

"This way." He called. 

And so Castiel led the way into the oblivion of the tunnel, holding out the pale blue light as his soaked group of friends followed close behind, peering past him into the dark with guarded eyes. 

\--------------

 

Castiel followed the heat in his chest through the tunnels, coupled with his knowledge of the slave base. They where far far down below it, and it seemed they where only being led deeper down. But he knew they had to go down before they could go up. The rock around them and under their feet was all obsidian black, not doing anything to part the dark which seemed to span out beyond Castiel's light for eternity. Sometimes, they would pass a tunnel that the heat told him not to go down, and he felt like something was watching them, biding it's time, following them in the shadows. A presence clawed at his mind, another conscience, but he drove it away using the heat. It unnerved him. He said nothing of this to the others. A few times, they tried to make small talk, but their words echoed eerily as the dark drowned their words. The attempts never lasted, and they fell into silence the majority of the time. It made it even worse. Until, of course, a voice rang out from the dark, stopping them all in their tracks. It was smooth and feminine, echoing out unnaturally, curling around the mind and fogging it, moving them all to a state of apathy, like a lullaby.

**_lovely little raven_ **

**_eyes like lightning bolts_ **

**_you'll die in the dark_ **

**_if only_ **

**_your lover's lips_ **

**_would announce themselves_ **

**_if only your scars would heal_ **

**_the past is catching up_ **

**_it'll ensure you in it's grip_ **

**_lover's lips_ **

**_lover's lips_ **

**_breath no more_ **

**_if only you had wings to soar_ **

 

 

**_big brother betrayal_ **

**_darkness in your past_ **

**_blood on your hands_ **

**_you'll die on distant sands_ **

**_if only forgiveness came like the tide_ **

**_your lips still lie_ **

**_your lips still lie_ **

**_two sides to a silver coin_ **

**_that sold an innocent boy_ **

**_your lips still lie_ **

**_soon you'll die_ **

**_and the raven will cry for you once again_ **

 

 

**_gallant little boy_ **

**_with teeth made of blades_ **

**_sharpened on your fathers words_ **

**_you're just a boy_ **

**_just a boy_ **

**_if only_ **

**_you were strong enough to speak your mind_ **

**_your heart will die_ **

**_in the dark_ **

**_if only_ **

**_you had strength_ **

**_to maintain the spark_ **

**_just a boy_ **

**_just a boy_ **

**_say goodbye_ **

**_to all your joy_ **

**_you silly little boy_ **

 

**_pretty little humans_ **

**_all walking in a row_ **

**_you'll die down here_ **

**_you know-_ **

**_one by one_ **

**_all will fall_ **

**_to the tear in the world_ **

**_pretty little humans_ **

**_if only_ **

**_someone loved you enough_ **

**_to let you go._ **

 

 

The voice faded, and they all blinked and Dean cursed. But no one dared wander out into the dark to chase after the voice. They kept moving, the words haunting them all. Castiel's light dimmed a little.

\--------------

Soon, another light appeared in the distance, flickering. Castiel froze, and everyone looked at him.

"Do you see that?" He asked. Dean looked where he was looking, then back at him.

"See what?" He asked. But by this point, Castiel completely forgot about his companions. The light came a little closer, so that he could see who it belonged too. His breath caught in his throat. He ran forward, his own light going out, plunging everyone into darkness.

"Castiel! Come back!" They screamed, stumbling after him, but he was already gone.

 

 

He chased after the light, ignoring the heat as it told him not too, determined to catch her. Through a maze of tunnels, he chased the light forever, not caring as his limbs screamed for rest. His vision narrowed from lack of oxygen because he didn't even bother to breathe. Finally, impossibly deep into the oblivion, the tunnel he was chasing the light down widened into a cavern.

The bearer of the light stopped, and he did the same. They threw up their hand, and the ball of white light rose up to hover in the air, brightening to cast a glow over the entire cavern. Except, it wasn't a cavern. It seemed to be a house of some kind, walls of wood and black stone, staircases leading up, bookshelves all fallen over down the side, and a huge table with a map, that had long since faded, etched into it. A broken disarray of what looked like chairs where scattered around. Doorways that had long since lost their doors led to other places, and a hallway off to the left was collapsed in on itself.

A woman with black hair and bright eyes stood in front of him.

The woman in the market, who had given him his silk square.

The woman who had told him the best place to kill himself.

The woman who had waved to him, from the balcony, and had somehow gave them a gust of wind to escape Alistair.

 

"Hello, Castiel." She beamed. He blinked. Oh god, where was he? What had he done, abandoning the others? He would never be able to find his way back to them, they could already be dead.

 

"Do you recognize this place?" The Woman asked, gesturing around, snapping him out of his thoughts. He frowned, looking around closely. The heat in his chest was more intense than ever, spreading to every inch of his body. There was a humming in his head, like a surge of floodwater trying to break through a dam.

"No, should I?" He asked. She pursed her lips.

"Why, of course you should silly! This is where you did it, saved the world, in The Time Before. Of course, that's in this universe. In another, this is where you learned to call home after the Fall. And in another, this is where you grew up as a human, raised to kill monsters. And in another, this is where you layed low with your faction of the army during World War Three, before you got captured by an enemy General, who just so happened to be another version of Dean Winchester. And in another universe, this place looked a little different, as the underground bootleg club you were an exotic dancer at, during the Second Prohibition in the year 2167, part of the Great Purge, before you were arrested by Detective - you guessed it- Dean Winchester. And in another, this was part of the Laboratory the government took you after they captured you, to run tests on you, considering you were an Aevanlian, and evolved sub species. Before - right again- Dean saved you. And in another, this was an old abandoned place the local teenagers used as a hangout, where you met the infamous ladies man, Dean Winchester. And in another, and another, and another. But no matter what, it's always here. Have you guessed it yet?" She added, grinning smugly. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around all of that.

"W-what?" He stammered.

She rolled her eyes. "This is where the climax of all your lives takes place. And this is where you died, and the new world was born. This is the Bunker." She announced.

He narrowed his eyes. "And how do you know all this?" He exclaimed. "Who the hell are you?" She frowned.

"You don't recognize me? Oh, wait, of course, you wouldn't in this form. One moment." She screwed up her expression, and right before his very eyes, her body began to change. Her chest grew flat and she shrunk, hips narrowing. Her neck and chin grew broader, stubble popping up over her jaw as her hair pulled back into her- or his, apparently- head. Instead of a blue dress and purple cloak, they were suddenly adorned in a wrinkled cotton shirt and trousers. Bright eyes were replaced by slightly glazed, tired looking ones.

He felt like the world had just fell from beneath his feet.

 

"Ah, much better." Chuck said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHAHAHAH PLOT TWIST  
> at the end, when she's talking, she's basically refrencing a bunch of alternate universes. Some of which, I am writing. Some of which are just generic AU's, high school AU, war AU, you know. 
> 
>  
> 
> I MADE A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT I LISTEN TO WHILE WRITING THIS USUALLY http://8tracks.com/snorkledestiel/sun-over-sea-honey-and-rum
> 
> so this is a bit longer of a chapter  
> sorry this took so long
> 
> and the grammar/punctuation/spelling is probably horrible, but it will be fixed soon. I just didn't want to make you guys wait any longer.  
> dedicated to all of you who have kept reading this despite my horrible grammar/spelling/punctuation. But that will all be fixed soon enough.


	21. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing good can last, after all.

"Your related to him, you should be able to do the light thing too!" Dean exclaimed. Gabriel's voice split the darkness.  
"HALF OF THE TIME I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I'M RELATED TO THAT PSYCHOPATH I MEAN YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE SHIT HE USED TO PULL WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING COMING FROM ME SO DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING GET ALL OVER MY SHIT DEAN MOTHER FUCKING WARRIOR PRINCESS WINCHESTER I WILL SHOVE YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP YOUR AS-" He was shouting, but then was suddenly cut off by a slapping sound, which Dean assumed was Michael's hand on his mouth.  
"Castiel described as it as a heat, correct? In his chest?" He asked. Dean nodded, and then realized Michael couldn't see him nodding. "Yeah."  
"I feel something akin to that, but I cannot quite reach it. Here, let me try-" There was some grunting for the next few minutes, and then a huff. Then, Michael shouted and a body toppled onto Dean. Dean luckily was leaning on a wall and managed to prop Michael back up on his feet, keeping a hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't trip again. Just as they made contact, a green light flared to life in Michael's hand. Weaker then Castiel's and a bit sickly looking, but thank od for that light. Michael made a noise of triumph, and moved away from Dean. Yet, the minute they lost contact, the light extinguished itself. Dean could practically hear Michael's frown. The hand placed itself on his shoulder, and the light flared up again. The entire group flocked to it, Anna sighing in contentment to be able to see again. Michael looked at him. In the green light, Michael' solemn expression wasn't quite so intimidating. Dean was struck by how _sad_ Michael seemed. For a minute, he felt bad for the guy. But then he remembered the image of Castiel on that balcony, and hate filled his heart.  
The light went out.  
Dean thought about the things Michael had said in the garden, how sorry he had seemed.  
The light flickered back to life.  
How terrified Dean had been when Castiel had locked himself in the room.  
THe light snuffed out.  
"Tell me one thing, Michael. If it comes down to it, and it's you or Cas, what would you do?" He barked. Everyone seemed taken aback by the sudden question.  
"Him. Always him. He is more then any of us deserve, Dean. I let a snake into my mind and I made a mistake. I will not repeat it." Michael replied with conviction.  
The light turned back on.  
"Come on, lets go." He said, and moved to clasp Michael's hand so he didn't have to keep it on his shoulder. No one asked exactly what had just happened. They were all too overwhelmed to care.  
Dean would much rather be holding hands with another Novak. Anger, worry and confusion hung in the air as they went forward. Why had Castiel run off? Where had he gone? Was he alright? How were they supposed to find their way without him? What was this place, what had that voice been, what light had Castiel been talking about? Where Samandriel and Adam even alive, even here at all? Would they ever find their way out?  
Too many questions. Dean wasn't good with questions. He was good and forging ahead and winging it.  
So that was what he did.  
\----------------------------------------  
"Are you God?" Castiel asked in awe. Chuck- or whoever they were- sighed and rolled their eyes.  
"Everyone thinks that, don't they? Well, i'm not. But I guess I get mistaken for my old man a lot, in every universe." He said, taking a seat in one of the chairs.  
Castiel frowned, trying to translate the man's vague words into sense. He gasped.  
"Didn't God have a son? Jersula? Jercha?" He asked, trying to remember the stories from the old fragmented Bible his father had had.  
Chuck smiled. "Oh, Jesus? Well, that's what I used to go by anyway. I have a lot of names, but right now Chuck will do." He assured Cas.  
The blue eyed man rubbed at his eyes.  
"But- why? What the hell is going on?" He exclaimed.  
"Short version? A hell of a long time ago, God left Earth, and threw me down with no memory of my divinity. He does that a lot, actually. Something about saving sinners and bearing witness to the climax of existence. He did the same thing in a couple universes, because he wanted us to learn to handle ourselves. In some universes, worked like a charm. In others, shit got a little hairy. But nothing as bad as this one. The angels flipped out, and Lucifer rose, bringing hordes of demons with him-"  
"Lucifer?" Castiel exclaimed. Chuck nodded. "Yeah, that brother of yours. His essence had to go somewhere. We were hoping he might turn out nicer with a whole new apple pie life and such, but I guess some scars run too deep to be erased by the holy fire. Speaking of which. Anyway, the demons rose up, the angels descended into chaos, and the humans got caught in the middle. Some crackpot fool demon and an angel named Metatron- yes, your brother again, i'll get to that- opened up purgatory. So, armies of monsters, demons, angels, and humans were at war with each other, even at war within themselves. In the process, they destroyed each other and the earth. It was the Big End Game. Or so, everyone thought. So, in the middle of this, God shows up again, and he's really disappointed in how this universe turned out. From his perspective, at first, it seemed as if all the good in the world was gone, destroyed. But then, he found you and your little rag tag group of hopeless martyrs. You were an angel, one of the best. You spent every second trying to stop the war within the angels. You believed that if the angel's banned together, they could drive the demons and monsters back and help humanity rebuild the Earth. But it was all to far gone- there was nothing left to rebuild. God was overjoyed to find such good souls among the dark. So, he altered his whole plan. They had to burn everything, in order to purge the earth of that evil. But in order to light such Celestial Fire, they needed something that even God couldn't just pull out of his back pocket. They needed you." Chuck pointed directly at him. Castiel blinked.  
"Me?"  
"Yup. They needed your vessel, your heart, your mind, your soul, your grace, your _everything_. Willingly given. You said yes instantly. God warned you that their was a high possibility that, unlike everyone else, he wouldn't be able to recycle you back into this new world. You said yes anyway. He wanted you to understand exactly what you were risking. So, he showed you. Every universe, everything you could ever be and would ever be, had ever be, the things you had always and had never had. And that was when they discovered the fatal flaw in this universe. Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester had never been born, due to one little mistake by a lower cupid. Two little pieces of the machine, and without them, it all fell apart. You still said yes But you where crying as you did so. I asked you why-"  
Castiel interrupted. "You were there?" He exclaimed.  
"Remember that journal I showed you? Who do you think wrote it? After all, Jesus was God's greatest prophet of all." He said smugly. Castiel didn't respond.  
"Why was I crying?" He said after a long while. Chuck smiled at him.  
"There is one thing that was a constant, in every universe. You, and Dean Winchester. In a thousand different shapes, places, forms, ways, times, names- you too were always bound to cross paths, regardless of how it ended. You are, in the greatest sense of the word, soul mates. And Lord above, you wept then, for the thing you had known a thousand times and never known at all. That's where I come in the picture. Just as God was ripping you apart too light the Fire, I was suddenly possessed by an urge. When God wasn't looking- although, I'm sure he was aware anyway- I stole a part of you." Chuck admitted. Castiel took a minute to, again, process all of that, and then he cocked his head.  
"What part of me did you steal?" He asked. Chuck grinned.  
"Your _heart_ , Castiel. The part of you deep inside that loved humanity without abandon, that loved every broken soul, every angel, you even loved the demons and monsters, because you knew they could not help the nature that they had been bent into. The part of you that loved the Winchesters." He explained.  
"Thank you?" Castiel said, not sure what to say. Chuck's expression soured.  
"Don't thank me. I made a mistake. A crime of passion, you could say. In doing what I did, I made it so that the Fire failed. It was supposed to destroy everything, except what God chose to recycle. But without that part of you, the Fire's grew out of my Father's control, and everything recycled. Mixing together, and being reborn over and over. Now, we are stuck in a cycle. No new souls can be made, nobodies fate can be changed." He sighed.  
Castiel stepped forward, running a hand through his hair. This was way too much to wrap his head around.  
"So your telling me, I made a consensual choice to give everything up, but you self righteously decided to pity me and fucked it all up?" He exclaimed.  
Chuck winced. "Well, essentially, yes. But it get worse." He began. Castiel threw his hands in the air, turning away. Of course it got worse.  
"My father didn't want to supernatural to be part of this new world. But since it was such a intense presence in all the souls after the war, he couldn't strip it away. So instead, he built this Veil thing of sorts, holding back the supernatural in every living and inanimate thing. For the first few millennia, it worked like a charm. But, this endless cycle of death and instant rebirth, it's slowly destroying the Veil. Like a constantly spinning wheel wearing away at the casings around it. This place is where the Veil is thinnest." Chuck stood, gesturing around. "That's why Lucifer built his base of operations here, so to speak."  
Castiel frowned, turning back to Chuck.  
"This base has been here for a century, Lucifer is barely 30 by this point." He protested. Chuck held up a finger.  
"You're forgetting something. The whole loop thing? Some people have figured it out, and remember their past lives. Your brother is one such cookie. He remembers everything. He's spent his entire set of lifetimes building the slave network, as a cover for his bigger plan. Think about it. What's the best way to continually survey every single soul, over the course of every lifetime? Why do you think they lock up some slaves, never selling them off? Lucifer is slowly checking off a list of all of the souls, finding his allies and awakening their memories, finding the biggest threats and locking them away or something along those lines. He plans on ruling this world, and he has an eternity to take his time doing it. That's why he convinced Michael to sell you, Castiel. He knew you were the biggest threat to his plan. Because in order to completely rule this world, he needs his mojo back. Which means tearing down the Veil. And you're the only one who can stop the cycle, and fix the Veil. He sold you into slavery hoping that if you were broken, your heart wouldn't be strong enough to do what it needs to do." Chuck's expression slowly shifted, sadness and dread in his tired eyes. Castiel ball this hands into fists.  
"Don't keep me waiting! What am I supposed to do?" He demanded. Chuck was silent, just staring at him sadly for a moment.  
"You have to give up your heart." He said simply.  
Castiel nodded. "Fine. Take it, take it all. I will miss this life but- it's for the better." He sighed. His heart ached for leaving his friends.  
Chuck grimaced. "Not so simple. After what I did- you need to give up your heart, Castiel. And too do that, in this new world, you need to break your own heart, give away the thing you love most." He said slowly.  
Castiel felt a chill overcome him at those words.  
Chuck laid a hand on his shoulder, biting his lip, eyes full of pity.  
"You have to kill Dean Winchester."


	22. The End Of All The Things You Never Got To Start

Castiel just stared at the man- or god, or demi god, or whatever he was- unmoving.  
"Well, Dean is the main problem, but that's not all. Castiel….you have to kill them all. Even the slaves, all of them, everyone on this island. You have to give up your heart, to break the cycle and fix the veil." Chuck continued, looking uncomfortable.  
Castiel ripped himself away from Chuck, stumbling back. "No, I can't, there has to be another way!" He whispered.  
"That's what got us into this mess, Castiel! There is no other way. This is what God has decreed must be done. But do not fret. My father is a good guy, really. When you do though, the cycle will be broken and souls will start returning to heaven, and new souls will be made. But some souls will still be reincarnated, as is the way of things. Certain souls. And my father has promised to return every soul of your friends, even into similar bodies. Sometime, in the future, I do not know when. They will live again, and better lives, I hope. And my father will grant you the gift of immortality so you may wait for them, as well as all your knowledge of the old world and your powers. You will be rewarded well for your sacrifice. They will live again, and so will you. It's not forever." Chuck assured him. Castiel put his hands to his head, heart pounding.  
"I can't, I can't do it, and you can't ask me to murder my entire family! The people who I care for most in this world, you're asking me to destroy them! I can't!" He exclaimed. Chuck's expression hardened.   
"You can, and you will. You have to understand." Chuck said, and reached forward, putting his hand to Castiel's temple.  
Pain and light exploded behind his eyes, and every life he ever lived flashed through his mind. And he watched, as the Apocalypse took the world in The Time Before. And just as the images came, they were gone, and he had nothing but the memories.  
He staggered, head aching like no other.  
He remembered everything. He remember being created, watching humanity crawl from the mud, watched them grow, and watched them be destroyed. And he that it would happen again, if he did not do this. He put a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes, just taking a moment to breathe.  
He had to do it.  
With a heavy heart, he began to form a plan.  
A horrible, horrible, wonderful plan.

 

After what seemed like hours of stumbling around in the dark, another light made itself known. And before they knew it, Castiel was there, looking haunted.  
"Where the _fuck_ have you been?" Dean exclaimed. Castiel forced himself to smile.  
"I had to have a little chat with an old friend. It's alright, I’m here now. And I know where we have to go. Come on!" he called, turning and running. They followed, relived to have a direction and a leader again.  
Castiel's blue light led them upwards again, with complete confidence in where he was going. Soon they were creeping along a hallway, carved out of the rock, with lights. They had to dodge guards constantly, but it was worth it when they finally reached the huge metal gate to the cavern were all the slaves were being held. It wasn't that hard to break the lock, at least, with angelic powers it wasn't. Castiel didn't mention anything as he snapped the bars singlehandedly, and everyone was too preoccupied to care anymore.  
The slaves, in a huge mass, scurried back away from them.  
"We are here to get you out, but before we leave, are two slaves by the names of Adam and Samandriel here?" Dean shouted, looking over the dirty bruised faces eagerly.  
A voice from the back of the crowd replied.   
"Dean?! Dean, is that you?" A familiar voice cried out. The crowd parted, and a boy with soft eyes and a lanky figure was supporting a strong jawed battered, slightly shorter boy, with his arm.   
Michael, Sam, Dean, Gabriel, Anna and Naomi all surged forward at once, enveloping the two boys in a hug. Dean was crying.  
“I failed you, I’m so sorry, I was supposed to protect you-" He blabbered, but Adam cut him off with a hug.  
"Mike? Gabe? Anna? Nay? What are you doing here?" Samandriel exclaimed happily.  
"We came to save you, idiot. At least, we helped Castiel save you. Samandriel, meet your older brother. He was never dead. I sold him into slavery, because I was weak and scared, and I lied to cover it up. But now he's the Chainbreaker, of all things, and he risked everything to come save you." Michael told him, turning Samandriel to face Castiel, who was hanging back awkwardly. He flinched at Michael's words.  
Samandirel blinked at all the new information, before running forward and embracing Castiel.  
"Thank you." He whispered. Castiel shut his eyes. He didn't deserve to be thanked, with what he was planning.  
A commotion sounded beyond the gate. Castiel turned to the mass of huddled slaves.  
"I know you're scared. But if you fight your way out of here, you will be free forever, I promise. It's now or never, take back what is yours! Take back the sunlight, the fresh air, the sky! Fight!" He called, and his words must have stirred their spirits, for they were rising up and suddenly they were all running out, led by Castiel, and the guards where no match for a hundred plus people that had been captive too long. It was intense, and confusing, and desperate and bloody, but soon Castiel was ripping a huge metal trap door off its hinges, and they were surging up into the light.  
Slaves screamed in joy, rolling out onto the sand. Castiel stood.  
Once every last person was out, Castiel slammed the trap door down on the hole, and took a deep breath. He raised a hand, and brought it swiping down, slapping against the ground. The ground shook, and a great rumbling began to sound out. Castiel turned, and ushered the out into the water, were the boats where coming round.   
"What the hell did you do?" Dean called to him as they ran, voice hard to hear over the sound of an underground avalanche.   
"I collapsed the tunnels, destroying the compound. That whole angel thing? Spot on. Long story." He called back, and he was so happy, in that moment running side by side with Dean and knowing they had saved everyone, so full of adrenaline, he forgot his task.  
Row boats made trips over and over, until they were all loaded onto the two ships.  
Samandriel and Adam embraced in joy. "We're free, Sandy, we're _free_." Adam sobbed, but the other boy cut him off with a kiss. Michael’s eyes widened, and Gabriel whooped, smacking Sam on the ass, who jumped and then blushed.   
And that broke the spell. Everyone began to sob, to cheer, and excitement and relief and joy pulsed in the air.  
Amongst all the ruckus, Dean pulled him in close, flush against his body, and kissed him like he was dying.  
Castiel was rigid at first, in shock, and then he remembered that in a moment they would all be dying and this was his last chance.  
He surged against Dean, kissing him, his heart breaking into pieces. And then, he pulled away, and turned around, and he began to cry. Dean looked shocked, and everyone grew quite.   
"I'm sorry. I love you, Dean, I have loved you a thousand times over, in a thousand worlds. But not today, not for now, we cannot love, and I am sorry. I had to do it, please remember that, wherever you go." He sobbed. And then, he disappeared. Dean yelped in shock, and everyone scrambled around the deck in alarm, looking for their friend.  
They did not see him, standing on the beach, watching with tear filled eyes. He bit his lip, and raised his hand.   
And brought it crashing down.  
A huge wave rose up, and his friend's screams were swallowed up by the water. The ships broke and shattered, sinking into the deep, blood turning the surrounding water red from the crushed bodies of everyone he had loved.  
He felt like he was dying. There was a pain, in his chest, like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.  
Chuck laid a hand on his shoulder.  
"Please don't cry, Castiel, that's what started this whole mess." He whispered.  
But he didn't care. He screamed, and he wept, for the love he only got a taste of, for all the lives he had just ended, right before they had entered the golden age.  
The seas raged and the skies broke, as the ground trembled. An angel's heart broke, and with it the cycle, and the veil healed itself with the power of the pain that he was feeling.  
But none of that mattered, because in that moment, Castiel wished he had died along with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry  
> (oops i'm really not hahahha)


	23. Epilogue: Love is Loading......Loading......Loading.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is well that ends well, so they say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At night when it's quiet and the waves come rolling in,  
> The merchant ship's light paints the dark as we sing hymns  
> To one who is great, whom but words cannot be seen  
> When all left is love, there will be no in between
> 
> Tucked in the corner of Earth  
> Naked in light we are birthed  
> Oh, can you hear the sea calling?  
> Calling us into the world
> 
> A distance from grace, we shall toil with our days  
> And take home the dirt that has rendered us as slaves  
> Our mothers will cry, is there something in the sky?  
> We know we are present here, but may never know why  
> \- "The Sea Is Calling"- The Temper Trap

"They're gone." Castiel whispered, digging his hands into the sand.

"Not forever." Chuck said slowly. Castiel snapped around to stare at him.

"What does that mean?" He asked.  
Chuck rubbed the back of his neck.  
"God chooses souls that have unfinished business to be reincarnated. He promises that everyone of them will be born again, around the same time, together again. And he will grant you this, so you can be with them again." Chuck pulled a necklace from thin air. It was Dean's necklace, the one that he had showed Castiel on the last night aboard Alistair's ship. Those stolen nights seemed like a lifetime again.  
"How is that supposed to help?" He exclaimed.

"As long as you wear this, you cannot age, and you cannot die, and you will retain a certain degree of your old angelic powers. Don't worry- it can't be stolen, lost, or destroyed. You can only take it off yourself, and then your human life cycle will resume." Chuck explained. The gold of the amulet glinted in the setting sun.  
Castiel let the information sink in.  
"The-then what was the point? You said I had to give up my heart, and I did, but i'm eventually going to get them back? Doesn't that defeat the freaking purpose?" He stammered.  
Chuck shook his head.  
"It was your willingness to give up your heart that fixed the veil, the pain, the sacrifice. Haven't you ever heard the story of when God asked that dude to kill his son as an act of faith, and right as he was going to, God stopped him and thanked him for his faith?" Chuck shrugged.

"God's a bit of an asshole, isn't he?" Castiel sneered. Chuck laughed, and nodded. A roll of thunder, like a grumble from the sky, rang out. Chuck didn't seem phased.

"But, Castiel- they won't be reborn for a long time. You'll be waiting for what may seem like an eternity. A lot of things can happen in that time. It will be hard, almost impossible, I imagine. Are you really willing to risk it?" Chuck asked uncertainly.  
Castiel stood, and took the amulet in his hands. He was silent.  
He turned, and looked out over the sea, that had grown calm by now. The horizon seemed farther away than ever.  
He lifted up the amulet, and slipped it over his neck.

 

 

For Dean, he would wait forever.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------

"Here's your latte, sir, have a nice day!" The perky barista said, setting the steaming cup in front of him. He smiled at her and picked it up, sipping it as he walked down the pathway. Walkways made of treated blue glass cut through a yard of bright green and silver grass in front of the main building. The building itself was constructed of arching white stone and the same treated, multicolored glass, designed so that sunlight lit every room all hours of the day. And at night, the special glass released the excess light it had gathered during the day. Same with the pathways and streets, so you wouldn't lose your way. An ingenious invention that, no matter what the history books rumored about, Castiel had only helped to create. Truly, Dunya Garta, a genius of the previous century, had done most of the work. He had also been an excellent opera singer. But of course, the danger of being an immortal icon, was that wherever he went, he unwittingly stole the show, per se. There were a lot of things different in this New World, but paparazzi never changed, even post-celestial-apocalypse.  
Castiel was a name every baby new, which was understandable, considering he had been an unchanging unit in an ever-changing world. He had fought wars, he had been a carpenter, a general, a gardener, a sailor, a newspaper editor, an erotic dancer (he blamed that decade's events entirely on intoxication), he had given humanity the tiny pushes it needed to head in the right direction as it progressed, hence the glass. Almost every major historical event, you would most likely find his name either in the headlines or in the side notes. He remembered the Time Before completely now, his memory had slowly come back throughout the years. He had come to peace with himself after years of hating every breath he took. 

Yes, he had lived a lot of lives, done a lot of things, and mastered a lot of professions. But he had not, in fact, ever been a Professor. Which was part of why this new job was so significant. The other part was that Chuck had called him out of no where, after two millennia of being AWOL, and demanded he come up to the Halaerian mountains as fast as possible. So, here he was, on his way to an appointment with the School's Headmistress. 

The morning air was crisp and fresh, especially this high up in the mountains. College students and staff milled about the grounds, all heading about their business. The Halaerian University, nestled in a valley between the highest mountains on the continent and only reachable by Orb, a sort of circular hovercraft that manipulated air currents. All of the most prestigious schools were in rather remote places, so that the events in the rest of the worlds would be a little more distant, hopefully keeping students more focused. The town of Grace Falls was centered around the campus. College-based towns. Some things never changed.  
It was a beautiful place, to be sure. The inside of the sprawling university was just as simplistically elegant as the outside.  
Everyone he had met on campus had been so preoccupied this early in the morning, they had paid him no mind yet. But the minute he walked in the door, a hush went over the office workers. An awestruck secretary pointed him towards the Headmistresses office.  
Up a flight of stairs and through double oak doors.  
He froze, and then sighed in exasperation.  
"Really, Chuck?" He said, raising an eyebrow.  
The woman in the suite, with the plentiful figure and the black hair laughed.  
"It's Chadala, in this form, dude. And yes, really. I found them." She deadpanned.  
Castiel's heart stopped in his chest.  
"They're here, at the University. Most of them. The others are living in the town. That's why I got this job for you, to give you a chance. You'll be teaching Advanced History- who better than you for that, really- a class that they all share. But don't just come right out and blurt it, they don't remember you. I'm not sure if they will. The Big Guy won't clarify, he just wants you teaching that class. Whatever else happens is lightning in a bottle, or so they say. Good luck." Chadala continued, tossing him a glass plaque. He stared down at it.  
 _Professor Novak AVH RM 201_  
He dropped his coffee with a splash.  
\----------------------  
"Really? Castiel, that's amazing!" Nora's voice exclaimed over the phone. Not like the old phones in the Time Before, these were circular rings of glass with a screen of light woven material stretched in the middle, that displayed things like holograms, and was operated by voice only. The immortal sighed, sifting through his cloths. His apartment- on campus, but rather nice, overlooking the falls- was in a disarray, he hadn't had time to unpack yet. Not that he had much to unpack.  
"It's a lot to take in. I mean, i've been waiting for an eternity for this, and now that it's here i'm choking on my own tongue at the thought of facing them again. What do professors even wear?" He threw up his hands.  
"What about the tan coat Missouri got you, as a joke? Maybe it'll jog some memories." Nora suggested. Missouri, being the strong psychic she was (God allowed a small amount of the supernatural into the world past the veil for balance, but it was now regulated), could see into his memories of the Time Before, and some of his fractured memories of the alternate universes Chuck had shown him. In a lot of them, he had been prone to wearing a tan overcoat. She had thought it would make a nice Eclipse gift.  
He pulled it out and pulled it one. It fit well, and it did have a vaguely professional air to it.  
"One problem done." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.  
"You'll be fine. Good luck, and remember, Missouri, Ava, Andy and I are coming up in October to visit you, alright? Hopefully, by then, you'll have a hot piece of reincarnated ass on your arm. Over and Out." She laughed, hanging up. The man blushed.  
He had made good friends with these people after they had been stuck in an orb together on it's way over the Setebascian sea for eight hours, due to weather delays. They didn't treat him like he was some sort of God, which he was grateful for.  
He looked at the sun clock, etched into the gold glass of his bedroom window.  
He had a class to teach.  
\-------------

He scrawled his name using a black marker, on the big panel of clear blue glass in the front of the classroom. It could be used like a whiteboard, or could be projected onto. HIs classroom was nice, circular, with pale gold light coming through the ceiling, made entirely of tinted yellow glass. He imagined it must look spectacular when it rained. He'd have to wait and see.  
The strangest thing about the room was the students. All ranging from fourteen to thirty, yet bright eyed and eager to learn. But in his class, they all sat there, unmoving, silent, staring at him in awe and maybe a little fear. He supposed it wasn't every day you got an immortal celebrity for a teacher. He was used to it.  
He set down the marker and took a deep breath, and turned to the classroom, smiling. One girl flinched, and a boy looked like he was about to come in his pants.  
But he paid them no mind. His eye's were drawn to a boy, around nineteen looking, with dark blonde hair and bright green eyes.  
 _Dean._  
The boy looked up at him with wide eyes, but he didn't look afraid. He looked excited. Though, not as excited as the younger boy with brown hair next to him, around fourteen looking, who looked like he was about to explode with amazement when Castiel looked at him.  
 _Sam._  
A girl with red hair and braces in the back, two boys the same age sitting to the side, holding hands under the desk. An older boy in the very front who blatantly took out a flask, took a swig and winked at Castiel, then passed the flask to another younger boy, who was busy sifting through his backpack, trying to dig a tablet out of his mounds of candy he had stuffed in the bag.

Castiel had lived for millennia. But he had never felt quite as _alive_ as he did then, knowing that he had a whole lifetime of opportunities laid out in front of him.  
His waiting was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT THE END  
> woah this is my first completed fic  
> I may or may not write a sequel  
> thank you guys SO MUCH for sticking with this. It's been a blast, i'm glad I finally got this done.  
> I told you it would have a happy ending

**Author's Note:**

> The more comments I get the faster I write trust me I am scientist  
> \----------------------------------------------------------
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING


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